In This Dance of Life
by Sara Wolfe
Summary: Lois and Clark, falling in love. A season eight AU. Formerly Convincing Lois
1. Convincing Lois

**Convincing Lois**

Lois had just stepped out of the shower, long, wet hair dangling in her face, when she heard knocking on the door.

"Hold on!" she called, bundling herself into her oldest, most comfortable robe and twisting her hair into a towel.

The knocking, rather than stopping, only got louder, and Lois rolled her eyes.

"Hold your horses, Smallville," she bellowed at the door.

Swinging by the kitchen, she snagged the chocolate ice cream out of the freezer and grabbed a spoon out of the drawer, before sauntering over to the door.

But, opening it, she saw Oliver on the other side, not Clark, like she'd been expecting. Oliver raised an eyebrow as he took in her shabby robe, tie-dye towel, and half-full carton of melting chocolate ice cream.

"That's certainly an interesting look for you," he commented, and Lois sighed.

"I thought you were Clark," she admitted, standing back to let Oliver move past her into the apartment.

"Finishing your wedding plans?" Oliver asked. "You and Chloe bouncing ideas off one another? Hey, you could have a double wedding!"

"Ollie," Lois protested, wondering how she'd lost control of the conversation when she hadn't even had a chance to enter it.

"When you first told me," Oliver continued, oblivious to Lois's discomfort, "I'll admit that I was, well, shocked, would be putting it lightly, but the more time I have to think about it, the more I'm okay with it."

"Wait, what?" Lois stammered, incredulously. "You are?"

"I was jealous at first," Oliver said, honestly. "I kept telling myself you were on the rebound. My ego wouldn't let me consider anything else," he said, with a self-depreciating eye-roll. "But, when I stopped and really let myself think about it, I realized that you and Clark really are perfect for one another."

"What?" Lois repeated, still stunned. The carton of ice cream sat forgotten in her hands, and the spoon tumbled to the carpet.

"You and Clark," Oliver told her, "you are – you're just right together. Clark smiles more when he's with you, he laughs and he's more open. And you – Lois, you light up whenever Clark comes into the room."

"I do?" Lois asked, weakly, and Oliver nodded.

"Sometimes, I see the two of you together, and it's like there's no one else in the room," he continued. "Clark's the luckiest man in the world, you know."

"I'm pretty lucky to have him," Lois admitted, softly, looking over at Oliver in shock once the words were out of her mouth.

"What'd I tell you?" Oliver said, grinning. "You're perfect for each other.

"Ollie-" Lois tried again to protest, but Oliver interrupted her.

"Now, Lois, I know your whole attitude toward presents, which you're going to have to change, by the way, since people are going to want to give you wedding gifts, but I thought, what could I give my two best friends that they wouldn't already get a dozen of? So, these are my present to you and Clark."

He handed over two slim strips of paper with a flourish, and Lois stared down at the plane tickets in shock.

"You guys probably haven't even started thinking about a honeymoon, yet, or maybe you have, I don't know-"

"Clark and I aren't getting married!" Lois blurted out, stopping Oliver in the middle of his sentence.

"Well, why not?" Oliver demanded, indignantly, after a moment of shocked silence. "What did Clark do?"

"Clark didn't do anything," Lois explained. "We were never getting married. Clark and I were undercover."

"Then what was that little display at the jewelry store?" Oliver pressed her.

"We couldn't risk blowing our cover," Lois said, apologetically.

Oliver was silent for several seconds as he digested everything Lois had told him, and then he offered a grudging, "Good acting."

"Thanks," Lois muttered.

"Does your undercover assignment have anything to do with those bruises?" Oliver asked, nodded at Lois's wrists.

Lois looked down at the dark bruises from where she'd struggled against the shackles binding her to the chair, and she nodded.

"That jeweler," she told Oliver, "he was kidnapping engaged couples and torturing them, putting them through his sick little games. He called it a test."

"He got you and Clark," Oliver said. "He put you through that test."

"He had Chloe and Jimmy," Lois corrected him, "and four other couples before that. Three of those couples ended up in the morgue."

"So, how did you and Clark wind up in his clutches?" Oliver prompted, when Lois had fallen silent.

"He shot me with a tranq dart," Lois said, angrily. "And Clark, that idiot, had to come in after me and get himself knocked out."

"You'd rather he'd have left you alone with that madman?" Oliver asked.

"I'd rather he not put himself in a position to get hurt!" Lois exploded, jumping up from her chair to pace across the small living room.

The long-forgotten carton of ice cream fell to the carpet, and Oliver grabbed it and set it on the table before Lois stepped in it. And then he wisely stayed out of Lois's way as she continued ranting.

"He came charging in there like he was invulnerable, and he got strapped into that chair, and then that son of a bitch electrocuted him!" Lois was practically yelling at this point. "You know, he never thinks before he does these things! That underground fight club, the Black Creek facility, and now this! He keeps running after me into these places, and one of these days he's going to get hurt. Don't you dare trivialize this!" she snarled, turning on Oliver when a hint of a smile ghosted over his face.

"I'm not," he said, quickly, as he held his hands up in surrender. "It's just – Lois, don't you think this is a bit like the pot calling the kettle black?"

"It's not the same thing," Lois protested, hotly.

"Isn't it?" Oliver asked. "You don't think Clark doesn't worry about you when you go charging into those places?"

"That's different," Lois repeated, stubbornly. "It is!" she exclaimed, when Oliver continued to look at her, skeptically.

"Just how is it different?" he demanded.

"Because Clark's not in love with me!" Lois shot back, triumphantly.

Then, what she'd said hit her, and she clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes going wide with shock.

"I – I didn't – I meant," she stammered.

"I think you said exactly what you meant," Oliver said. "The question is, when are you going to say those words to Clark?"

"I already did," Lois told him, so softly that Oliver almost didn't hear her.

"You did?" he asked. "When?"

"That jeweler," Lois reminded him, "he hooked those couples he kidnapped up to a lie detector. Wrong answers got the other person electrocuted, and he'd already hurt Clark, once. I couldn't let him do it, again."

"So, you told Clark you loved him," Oliver hazarded a guess.

"The guy asked, 'Do you love him," and I said yes," Lois admitted, softly.

"What did Clark say?" Oliver asked.

"He got the same question, but he didn't say anything," Lois replied.

"He what?" Oliver demanded, and Lois looked up at his sharp tone.

"He was too busy getting us out of there," she said, defending her absent partner. "His straps were loose, so he got the guy over by him and he knocked him out. Then, he got me out of that chair, and we called the cops and waited for them to show up."

"Clark's straps were loose," Oliver repeated, an incredulous note in his voice.

"They had to be," Lois said. "Otherwise, we'd have been stuck down there until that maniac either let us go or shot us."

"Getting back to my original question," Oliver prompted, "what are you going to do about Clark?"

"The only thing I can do," Lois replied, quietly. "I'm going to deny the whole thing."

"You can't do that!" Oliver exclaimed, indignantly. "Did you miss that whole 'perfect for each other' speech I gave you? That was a good speech. I worked on it all night."

"Ollie, Clark doesn't love me," Lois said. "And, you know, that's fine. We'd be better off as friends, anyway."

"So you're running away," Oliver said.

"I'm not running away," Lois hedged. "But, it's not fair for either of us, knowing how I feel when he doesn't feel the same."

"You're really going to tell Clark that you were lying," Oliver said. "Lois, you were hooked up to a lie detector!"

"I'll think of something," Lois protested. "I work well under pressure."

"You're really not going to change your mind about this?" Oliver asked.

Lois shook her head. "I appreciate you coming over, Ollie, and here's your plane tickets back-"

"Keep 'em," Ollie interrupted, dismissively.

"Ollie, even you can't just write off the cost of two plane tickets to-" She broke off, studying the tickets with a puzzled frown. "There's no destination on these. There are no dates, either."

"They're for the Queen Industries jet," Ollie said. "I whipped them up on my computer."

"I still can't keep these," Lois insisted.

"Keep them," Ollie repeated. "Save them for when you finally come to your senses about Clark."

He walked over to the door, and Lois caught the door as he opened it.

"You're wrong about one thing," he said, as he stepped out into the hallway. "Clark does love you."

"Ollie," Lois groaned.

"You said it yourself," Ollie continued, undaunted. "He keeps running after you."

Then, he kissed Lois on the cheek and walked down the hall, leaving her stunned in his wake.


	2. Come To Terms

**Come to Terms**

"Are you crying?"

Lois sniffed, wiping surreptitiously at her eyes before she turned to shoot Clark a hard look.

"I am not crying," she declared, but her words were undone by her puffy red eyes and the choked sound to her voice. Clark grinned.

"You are!" he teased her. "Lois Lane is crying over a romantic movie! _Sleepless in Seattle_, to be exact."

"I am not," Lois protested, feebly. "I'm allergic to Shelby, here," she said, looking down at the dog, who wagged his tail at the sound of his name.

"Allergies, right," Clark said, disbelief plain in his voice.

"Your mail's here," Lois said, in a clear attempt to change the subject.

Clark craned his head around to look out the window and saw the familiar white and blue truck pulling away from the mailbox.

"How did you know that?" he asked, baffled. "You can't see the window from where you're sitting."

"Shelby heard it," Lois told him, and sure enough, his dog was staring at the window, ears perked up and tail wagging.

"I'll be right back," Clark said. "Don't start the next movie without me."

He shifted Lois's sock-clad feet from his lap, where she'd plopped them at the beginning of their movie marathon. She'd shown up at the beginning of their first day off in nearly two weeks with a big stack of DVDs in her hands, and had convinced Clark to abandon his plans of a day working on the farm to engage in hers. Of course, he couldn't very well say he'd put up much of a fight.

As soon as he stood up, Shelby jumped onto the space he'd vacated and settled down next to Lois with a decidedly blissful look on his face. Clark laughed as Lois sneezed several times in rapid succession, even as she reached over to ruffle the fur behind Shelby's ears.

"Weren't you getting the mail?" Lois asked him, pointedly, and, still grinning, Clark went outside to the mailbox.

When he returned a minute later, he was staring down at a package wrapped in plain brown paper with a puzzled frown on his face.

"What's up?" Lois asked, coming up behind him and looking over his shoulder.

"There are no markings anywhere on this one," Clark told her, brandishing the package. "No return address, no stamp, no post office markings, not even my name."

"Someone just dropped it into your mailbox?" Lois asked, her voice suddenly wary. "Don't open it, Clark. It could be a bomb."

"It's not ticking," Clark said, carefully holding the package up to his ear. Then, Lois's words sunk in and he turned to look at her suspiciously. "Wait a minute. Why would you think it's a bomb?"

"A plain brown package that mysteriously appears in your mailbox?" Lois said, with a shrug. "It fits the pattern."

"What pattern?" Clark demanded. "Lois, have you gotten a bomb in the mail?"

"Once," Lois muttered, and Clark's eyes flew wide open with shock. "Maybe twice. Okay, four times!" she finally admitted, as Clark continued to stare at her, speechless.

"Four times," he echoed, dumbfounded. "Lois-"

"You can't do a good job in our line of work without pissing a few people off," Lois protested, defensively.

"Four bombs," Clark echoed. "Lois, you could have been killed!"

"Would you stop worrying?" Lois asked. "Everything turned out just fine."

Clark heaved an exasperated sigh. "I'm opening this," he announced, as he x-rayed the package, and saw that whatever it was, it was encased in a lead box.

"Smallville, what were we just talking about?" Lois demanded.

"It's metal," Clark told her, rapping his knuckles lightly on the box and hearing a dull, thumping sound. "Thick metal. It's not a bomb."

Lois rolled her eyes. "Shelby, go in the kitchen," she said, addressing the dog. "If Clark's going to blow us all to kingdom come, I don't want you caught in the crossfire."

With a quiet whine and a disdainful look at Clark, Shelby heaved himself off the couch and padded silently out of the room.

"See?" Lois said, triumphantly. "Even Shelby agrees with me."

"That's because you're his favorite person," Clark told her. Catching Lois out of the corner of his eye, he looked over to see her pulling her cell phone out of her pocket. "Let me guess," he asked, wryly. "You memorized the number for the bomb squad?"

"They're number two on my speed dial," Lois told him.

"Who's number one?" Clark asked, curiously.

"You are," Lois replied, absently, still looking at something on her phone. Then, she glared at Clark when he broke into a wide grin. "Not that it means anything," she said.

"Of course not," Clark said, still grinning, as he slowly unwrapped the package.

Beside him, Lois held her breath, her hand hovering over the buttons on her phone. Clark slowly eased the lead box out of the wrapping and carefully lifted the lid, ready to shield Lois in an instant in case it did turn out to be a bomb.

"Well, that was anti-climactic," Lois declared, as they stared down at the large crystal nestled on a pillow inside the box. "It's kind of pretty," she commented, plucking it out and holding it up to the light. "Don't know why anyone would send you a piece of costume jewelry, though."

"It's not costume jewelry," Clark said, quietly, taking the crystal from Lois. "It's-"

He broke off in horror as the crystal started to glow the second it touched his hand.

"Lois, get out of here!" he said, urgently, as it began to pulse with an erratic light.

"No way! I'm not leaving you!" Proving her point, Lois latched onto his arm, staring, transfixed, at the glowing crystal.

Clark opened his mouth to say something, but he never got the chance as the light blinded him. He felt Lois clutch at his arm, and he wrapped his arms around her, to keep her close to him.

And when he could see, again, he found himself staring at the all-too-familiar landscape of the Phantom Zone.

"Now I'm really glad I sent Shelby into the kitchen," Lois said, faintly, as she took in the bleak landscape around them.

She took a step forward, but stumbled almost immediately, and Clark grabbed her arm to keep her on her feet.

"Ow," Lois muttered, limping forward a step. "I think I cut my foot on something."

Clark looked down and saw that Lois was still in her socks, and that one of them looked slightly pink.

"You're bleeding," he said, and Lois rolled her eyes.

"I didn't exactly have time to put shoes on before we were abducted to wherever the heck we are," she retorted.

Clark simply swallowed, hard, looking around them, nervously.

"Do you know where we are?" Lois asked, quietly, seeing the expression on his face.

"I think so," Clark said, softly. "But, I really hope I'm wrong."

"Where do you think we are?" Lois asked, keeping her voice down, like he was.

"It's called the Phantom Zone," Clark told her. "My – my father built it."

"How did Jonathon-" Lois demanded.

"Not my dad," Clark corrected, quickly. "My biological father built this place. It's a prison."

"Who would want to send you to prison?" Lois asked.

"No one good," Clark answered, then his eyes widened in shock. "Lois, behind you!"

Lois whirled around, almost before he'd finished speaking, sweeping her leg around in a low arc and dumping her would-be attacker backward on the ground. Her attacker tried to get up, but Lois hit him with an open hand on the forehead, knocking him unconscious. Then, Lois pulled her attacker's hood back and gasped in shock.

"Clark," she said, urgently. "It's Kara."

"Kara?" Clark demanded, coming over and kneeling down next to his cousin. "Is she hurt?"

"No more than what I did to her," Lois said, sheepishly.

Clark felt for a pulse at Kara's throat, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt Kara's heart beating strong, if a little fast.

"Clark," Lois said, suddenly, and her voice sounded strained. "We've got company."

Clark looked up, quickly, to see a group of hooded individuals standing on a rocky outcropping, nearby, staring down at them. Clark carefully eased Kara into his arms, and then looked around at Lois when he heard the soft shushing of metal on metal. His eyes widened in surprise to see her holding a long, wicked knife, standing defensively between him and Kara, and the group. She held it with an ease that spoke of long familiarity with a weapon.

"Kara had this on her," Lois said, quietly, before he could speak up. "And, yes, I do know how to use it."

"You've got my back?" Clark asked, quietly, after wrestling with his conscience for a moment about letting Lois near the Zoners.

"Always," Lois said, flashing him a brief smile.

Clark stood, Kara in his arms, her head on his shoulder, and he started moving briskly away from the group, Lois right behind him. As soon as they started moving, the hooded figures began to follow them. Lois pushed at Clark's shoulder, urging him to go faster, and Clark broke into a reluctant jog, unwilling to chance leaving Lois behind.

"Would you hurry up?" she snapped at him, giving him another careful shove. "They're gaining on us!"

As if to underscore her point, Clark heard yelling from behind him, and he started to run faster, shifting Kara to a more secure position in his arms. It wasn't fast enough, though, and Clark heard one of the convicts let out a triumphant cry. Clark whirled around in time to see him as he launched himself at Lois.

Lois may have been tiny next to the hulking brute, but she was also faster, and she dodged out of his way, tripping him as he went past, and sending him sprawling to the ground. Clark, who by that time had put Kara down a safe distance away, punched the man when he tried to get up, and he dropped back down, unconscious.

Clark heard a strangled cry from behind him, and he turned to see another convict on the ground, blood covering his legs – and the blade of Lois's borrowed knife. He found himself wincing in sympathetic pain when he realized just what part of the man's anatomy that Lois must have hit.

"They're after Kara," she announced, grimly, backing up until she stood beside Clark. "And I'll give you three guesses as to why."

Clark's blood ran cold at the thought of anyone hurting his cousin, but before he could say anything, one of the remaining convicts spoke up.

"You could always take her place," he leered at Lois. "Yourself for the girl, what do you say?"

White-hot fury filled Clark at the man's words, and he rushed the surprised man, grabbing him by the collar of his robe and heaving him away from Lois and Kara. The man fell backward, striking his head hard on the ground, and he didn't get up, again. The other two convicts ganged up on Clark, but he took them on anyway. He may not have had his powers in the Phantom Zone, but he wasn't going to let that stop him.

Clark grabbed one of the men and knocked him to the ground, pounding on him with his fists. He didn't let up, even when someone grabbed him by the arm and tried to forcibly pull him away.

"Stop it!" Lois barked, suddenly, in his ear, and Clark froze at her words.

Lois released the tight grip she had on his arm, and Clark looked down at the man he'd been beating. The man was battered and unconscious beneath him, and Clark felt sick when he thought of what he'd done. He looked around, to distance himself from the sight, and he saw the other convict in a similar state, nearby, the dark bruise on his temple matching the pommel of Lois's knife.

"We need to get Kara somewhere safe," she told him, firmly. "If there is such a place in this hell."

"I know a place," Clark said, forcing himself to get to his feet and walk away from the damage he'd inflicted.

He picked Kara up, again, and headed off in the direction of the altar where the doorway was, Lois right behind him. They were almost there, when Clark spotted a group of Zoners entering the altar, and he pushed Lois back, urgently. Lois tugged on his arm, suddenly, and Clark found himself being pulled into a small cave, and he and Lois headed immediately as far back as they could. When they got there, Clark set Kara carefully on the ground, and Lois put her jacket behind the younger girl's head as a pillow.

"You know first aid, right?" Lois asked him. "You patch Kara up, and I'll go keep an eye on the entrance to this place."

"Lois, it's too dangerous," Clark protested, quickly.

"Just as dangerous for you, Smallville," she retorted. "I'll be fine, Clark."

She left, not giving him a chance to stop her, and Clark turned his attention back to Kara, who was still out cold. He made her as comfortable as he could on the hard ground, checking her over for injuries and finding none except those which Lois had inflicted on her.

Lois came back a few minutes later, and Clark looked up in surprise when she wearily sat down next to him.

"They left," she said, softly, tipping her head toward the entrance. "They disappeared into that funky place. I'm assuming that's where you were heading?"

Clark nodded, and Lois looked down at Kara.

"Is she okay?" she asked, worriedly.

"She will be as soon as she wakes up," Clark said, not even trying to hide the concern in his own voice.

"I guess we wait, then," Lois remarked, leaning against the wall with a tired sigh.

"Since we're stuck here," Clark said, "let me see your feet."

Lois shot him a puzzled look, and then looked down her legs to see that her once-pristine white socks were now a dull red color.

"They didn't even hurt," she admitted, shifting slightly to put her feet in Clark's lap.

"They will in a minute," Clark warned her, cautiously, and Lois nodded in understanding.

"Just get it over with," she told him.

Clark carefully grasped the top of her sock and started to slowly peel it off her foot. Barely an inch down her foot, he heard a faint tearing sound, as the sock came away from her skin after being glued to it with dried blood. Lois let out a quiet curse, glaring at him.

"What part of 'get it over with' wasn't in English?" she hissed, breathing hard through the pain.

"If I don't go slowly, I'll wind up reopening the wounds on your feet," Clark told her. "Do you really want that to happen?"

He finished pulling off one sock and went on to the other, and at some point, Lois had latched onto his shoulder and was gripping as tightly as she could. She didn't let go until after he'd put both bloody socks on the ground.

"We need to get you some shoes," Clark said, looking worriedly at the mess of her feet. Taking off his flannel shirt, he ripped the sleeves off and wound them around Lois's feet, as meager protection.

"We need to get out of here," Lois told him. "Is that what that place is? A way for us to get home?"

"Yeah," Clark told her. "Lois-"

"Can those creeps get out of here, in that place?" Lois asked suddenly. "Can they escape?"

"Not without mine or Kara's blood," Clark assured her. "Lois, I'm not from Earth," he blurted, before he could lose his nerve.

Lois nodded, surprising him. "I kind of figured that out when you said your biological father made this place," she told him, when he shot her a skeptical look.

"You figured out that I was an alien?" he asked, suspiciously.

"Okay, I didn't completely suspect the 'visitor from another planet' part, but I figured something was up with you," Lois told him.

"It was called Krypton," Clark said, softly.

"Your home planet?" Lois asked, and Clark nodded.

"In the pictures Jor-el showed me, it was this beautiful planet full of crystalline structures," Clark told her. "Everything looked like it was made of diamonds."

"Sounds like heaven," Lois said, absently, and then she caught herself and looked over at Clark, clearly remembering her experience with the Fortress after she and his mother had crashed in the Arctic.

"This Jor-el," she asked, slowly, "is he your biological father?"

Clark nodded, again, and Lois's eyes sharpened, suspiciously.

"Kind of a deep voice?" she pressed, insistently. "Booming and pompous?"

"That's Jor-el," Clark confirmed.

Lois shook her head, clearly amused with herself. "Thought I was in heaven," she muttered, and Clark smiled.

"At least you didn't think Jor-el was God," he teased.

"Why do I get the feeling he'd be flattered?" Lois asked, rhetorically.

"Anyway," Clark continued, "when I'm on Earth, I've got all these powers. Super strength, super speed…"

He trailed off, waiting for Lois to finish his unspoken thoughts, and she didn't disappoint him.

"You're Superdude," Lois said, her tone managing to be both awed and annoyed, and if the situation hadn't been so dire, Clark would have laughed at the amazed and slightly accusatory look on her face.

As it was, he certainly didn't see any need to deny what they both knew was the truth – he couldn't lie to Lois; not here, not when they didn't even know if they were going to make it home, alive. So he nodded, giving her a sheepish smile.

"You rescued me from Sebastian," Lois went on. "He tried to kill me, and you saved my life. Why didn't you say anything?"

"What was I supposed to say?" Clark asked. "Gee, Lois, I heard you were in trouble so I zipped over to your apartment and threw your attacker into a wall?"

"Well, it would certainly have explained a few things," Lois countered. Then, she got a puzzled look on her face. "Wait a minute," she said, slowly, "if you were at my apartment, then who did Jimmy see in that alley? Even you can't be in two places at once, can you?"

Clark shook his head. "That was Oliver," he explained. "He owed me a favor, so-"

"Oliver?" Lois interrupted. "No offense, Smallville, but in what world can Ollie pass for you? There's no way you two look alike."

"He was on a roof and it was dark," Clark said, in defense of his friend. "Plus, he was wearing a blue costume with a hood."

"A blue costume," Lois repeated, slowly. "Like what he wears as Green Arrow?"

At Clark's raised eyebrow, she added, "Did you really think that I wasn't going to find out? Plus, Ollie told me you knew."

"It looked exactly like his Green Arrow get-up," Clark told her, once he was sure Lois wasn't mad at him over his part in her deception.

"Except it was bright blue," Lois said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"With a red cape," Clark told her.

"A cape," Lois echoed, and the corners of her mouth twitched in a smile and he could practically hear the suppressed laughter. "A cape?"

"A red cape," Clark corrected, and Lois snorted out a laugh.

"He looked ridiculous," Clark confirmed.

"Please tell me you got a picture," Lois begged.

"Tights and all," Clark said, matching her grin with one of his own. "It's locked in a box in the loft."

Lois lost it. A small, breathless gasp escaped as she tried to hold back her laughter, and then she muffled the noise with a hand clamped over her mouth. She couldn't muffle all the noise, though, and that was what woke Kara up.

She blinked her eyes, slowly, as she looked around, and then she froze and went pale when her eyes landed on Lois and Clark.

"What?" she demanded, incoherently, as she struggled to sit up. "How?"

Clark helped her to sit up against the wall, and she gripped his arms, tightly, glaring weakly at him.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, angrily. "What is Lois doing here?"

"We had a bit of an accident," Lois explained, "after someone mailed Clark a big hunk of costume jewelry."

"It was the Fortress crystal," Clark elaborated. "Someone reprogrammed it to send me here."

"Who?" Kara demanded. "Who would even know how to do that?"

"I don't know," Clark said, hating how helpless the words made him feel. "Someone sent me – sent us – here, and I don't even know who did it."

"Yeah, well, I don't really care about the who," Lois said, firmly. "I just care about how. As in, how we're getting out of here."

"You said it yourself, Lois," Clark reminded her. "The altar is full of Zoners."

"Not for long," Lois muttered, a determined look on her face. "Gimme that cloak," she told Kara, holding her hand out, impatiently. "I'm going to draw them out of there, and you two are going to get in there and get us the hell out of here."

"Lois, no," Clark protested, immediately. "It's too dangerous."

"No less dangerous than just sitting here waiting for them to come pick us off," Lois retorted.

"She has a point," Kara told Clark, reluctantly. "But," she continued, looking at Lois. "I'll be the one drawing their attention. My feet aren't hurt," she added, when Lois looked as though she was about to protest.

Lois finally nodded, reluctantly, and Kara got quickly to her feet and crept back toward the mouth of the cave. Lois and Clark waited for thirty seconds, timing it on Lois's watch, before they followed, sticking close to the sides of the rocks when they emerged into the bright, harsh sunlight. Out in the open, they bolted across the rough ground, Clark pulling relentlessly at Lois to keep her from falling behind, and they arrived at the altar, both panting hard and struggling to catch their breath.

Almost a minute later, Kara popped into the altar, scaring both of them half to death.

"Sorry it took me so long," she said, not even having the audacity to be winded. "Took me a little longer than I liked to lose the Zoners."

"Can we go home now?" Lois asked, pointedly. "Maybe the 'Top One Hundred Prisons' is a good idea for a Kryptonian vacation, but if it's all the same to you, I'd like to get out of here."

"She's right," Kara said, striding forward to the plinth before the portal. "I'll trigger the portal and you two go through," she told Clark.

"I'll do it," Clark argued, stubbornly.

"You'll both do it," Lois said, decisively, ending any further argument, "and I'll drag you both behind me as I'm going through."

Clark nodded, picking up a rock and slashing at his hand so that blood welled up in his palm. He hissed at the sudden, sharp pain, and Lois shot him a curious look.

"I'm generally a lot harder to hurt than this," Clark explained.

"I'd hate to see you trying to shave," Lois muttered, and Kara stifled a snort of laughter with her hand.

Clark put his hand down on the pedestal and the air between the stones of the portal shimmered a bright blue. When the light died down, the space between the stones wavered like water. Kara pushed Lois forward, keeping her directly behind Clark and placing herself last in the line, and they ran toward the portal. Lois stumbled right as they were going through, as though something had struck her in the back, and as they landed on Earth, Clark caught her when her legs buckled beneath her. He held Lois in his arms when she dropped her head to rest on his chest, limply.

"Lois, are you all right?" Clark asked, urgently.

Lois gave a shuddering sigh, and then she lifted her head, a strange smile on her face.

"Oh, I'm more than all right," she purred, and Clark took an alarmed step back at the predatory light in her eyes.

"Clark, it's a Zoner," Kara said, frantically.

"How perceptive of you," the Zoner possessing Lois said, mockingly. "And I must thank you, children of El. Without you, none of this would be possible."

"Get out of her!" Clark growled, taking a threatening step toward the Zoner.

"Oh, I don't think so," the Zoner said. "I'm getting rather used to this body. And you're not going to do anything to stop me, are you? You wouldn't want to risk hurting your precious friend?"

Clark took another step forward, but froze when the Zoner lifted Kara's knife, still clutched in her hand, to Lois's throat.

"Not one more step," the Zoner said, darkly. "Not unless you'd like your friend's blood all over your hands."

"You'll be out of a host body," Clark said, trying any stalling tactic he could think of. Anything to get the Zoner to put the knife down.

"I can always find a new one," the Zoner told him, smiling that hard, cold smile that looked so strange on Lois's face. "You'll stay away from me, if you want this body to remain unharmed."

With that, she lowered the knife and sped off into the night, disappearing quickly from view. Clark watched her go, frozen to the spot for fear of the Zoner carrying out her threat towards Lois.

"Clark," Kara said, urgently, snapping him out of his daze. "Clark, I know who that is."

"Who?" Clark asked, desperate for anything that might help them get Lois back, safely.

"Her name is Faora," Kara told him. "She's the wife of General Zod."

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

Several hours later, Clark and Kara had tracked Faora to Metropolis General Hospital.

"What in the world could Zod's wife want with a hospital?" Clark wondered, aloud, as they stood in front of the main entrance to the hospital.

"People are suffering in there," Kara reminded him, gently. "That's what she thrives on."

"I don't see anyone running or screaming," Clark said, uneasily.

"That doesn't mean she's not hurting people," Kara said, tersely. "Come on."

Without a look back, she strode across the street and through the double doors, Clark hurrying to catch up. He knew Kara had to be annoyed with what she would perceive as a weakness in him, this desire not to confront Faora. After all, he hadn't hesitated in stopping any of the other Phantoms when they had possessed innocent people. But this wasn't just any innocent, he realized, with a jolt. It was Lois. And he couldn't risk doing anything that might get her hurt.

_'Even if other people get caught in the crossfire?'_ his cynical inner voice demanded, sounding strangely like Lois. _'You're going to let other people, innocent people, get hurt, maybe even killed, just to protect one person?'_

Then, somewhere in the hospital, someone screamed, and all rational thought fled. Clark ran through the hallways, in the direction of the screaming, and he emerged out from a stairwell to find Davis Bloome lying on the floor, pale and covered in blood, an IV pole protruding from his stomach and sticking out through his back.

The screaming, as it turned out, was coming from a group of patients cowering behind the nurses' desk. A nurse stood in front of them, her hands empty, but still clearly determined to protect her patients. And Kara stood between Davis and Faora, a long gash marring her cheek and her knife reclaimed in her hand.

"Look who's joined the party," Faora said, glancing over at Clark without taking her attention of Kara. "Here to watch me kill what's left of your family, Kal-el?"

"I'm not dead, yet," Kara snapped, furiously.

"Let these people go," Clark said, looking quickly over at the patients to see that, while they were clearly scared, none of them had been physically hurt. "Whatever you want, they've got no part in it."

"I want that one," Faora said, nodding at Davis. "Give him to me and I'll leave these people alive."

"What could you possibly want with Davis?" Clark asked, trying to stall her. "He's just a paramedic."

Faora laughed, a harsh, ugly sound coming out of Lois's throat. "If only you knew," she said, tauntingly.

"What do you mean by that?" Clark demanded.

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough," Faora told him, a strange smile on her face.

"They were arguing," Kara said, quietly. "And then she just stabbed him. She was too fast; I couldn't get there in time."

"I wouldn't call it an argument," Faora corrected her. "Merely a difference of opinion."

"Whatever," Kara snapped. "We're not going to let you hurt anyone else."

"You can't stop me, remember?" Faora reminded her, giving Lois's hand a jaunty wave. "Whatever you inflict on me, your friend feels."

"And she'd rather die than live knowing you were using her to hurt people," Clark said, suddenly, knowing as the words came out of his mouth that they were the right ones.

"Oh, now this is interesting," Faora said, with a laugh, turning to face Clark. "You'd kill your friend to try and stop me?"

"If that's what it took," Clark said, evenly, conviction filling his voice.

"Even your father didn't go to such lengths to justify murder," Faora said. "What makes the son so different, I wonder?"

"I'm not justifying anything," Clark said. "I just know how Lois would choose to live her life. And it's not as your puppet."

"And how could you possibly know that?" Faora asked, mockingly.

"Because I love her," Clark said, softly.

"And, yet, you'd kill her?" Faora asked. "That doesn't sound much like love to me."

"That's because you can't comprehend something like love," Clark told her. "You can't understand how I can know Lois so well that I'd know what she wants without ever hearing her say a word."

"What if I told you I could hear her begging?" Faora asked him. "If I told you that she was begging you to save her life, no matter what?"

"You're lying," Clark said, even as he started to feel the first stirrings of uncertainty.

"Am I?" Faora taunted, seizing on that uncertainty like a Doberman on a bone. "Are you really sure of what she wants, Kal-el?"

Clark closed his eyes, briefly, and took a deep breath, trying to quell the little, nagging voice that kept bringing up doubts. Then, he opened his eyes and smiled at Faora.

"Lois, I love you," he said.

"Lois can't hear you right now," Faora told him.

"Yes, she can," Clark said, determinedly. "Right, Lois?"

"She's powerless," Faora snarled, precariously close to losing her temper. "She can't do anything."

"Are you really going to let some intergalactic hussy take over your body?" Clark asked, still speaking directly to Lois and ignoring Faora completely. "I can't believe you'd just sit back and let her use you like this."

"She can't hear you," Faora repeated, her face gone mottled purple with anger. "Stop talking to her."

"Lois, I love you. You can fight this."

The insult of being ignored must have been too great for Faora to bear, because she charged at Clark, furiously, but a second before she reached him, her steps faltered, and Clark took advantage of her hesitation to grab her by the shoulders and throw them both out of a nearby window.

They fell, the wind whistling in Clark's ears, and he wrapped his arms around Lois's body to protect her from the impact when they landed. And a few seconds later, Clark heard the all-too-familiar crunch of metal under his back, and he winced at the thought of having destroyed yet another car. Then the body in his arms shifted, and Clark snapped his attention back to Faora in time to see her fist speeding toward his face.

He dodged to the side, and Faora plunged Lois's fist straight through the ruined roof of the car. The Phantom snarled in incoherent rage as she tried to extricate herself from the car, but then her whole body stiffened like she'd been electrocuted, and then her eyes rolled back in her head, and she collapsed onto Clark's chest.

"Lois?" Clark ventured, cautiously, as she stirred, moaning softly. "Lois, is that you?"

Bleary brown eyes opened to stare at him, blankly, and then Lois whispered, "I heard you, Clark. I heard you." Then she slumped back against his chest, unconscious.

Clark heard a noise from behind him, and he tipped his head back to see John Jones walking toward him. He held up a hand, and Clark saw his crystal nestled in his palm.

"I heard there was some excitement at the hospital and I decided to check it out," the Manhunter-turned-cop said.

"Thank you," Clark said, earnestly. "You saved Lois's life."

"Who had her?" John asked, nodding toward Lois.

"Faora," Kara answered, flying down from the broken window to join them. At the pair of raised eyebrows she received, she explained, "I cleared out the hallway while you were baiting Faora. No one saw you leap out the window, and no one saw me, either."

"I wasn't just baiting Faora," Clark admitted. "I meant what I said."

"Well, it's about time," Kara told him. "You and Lois were making googly eyes way too much last year. It's time you did something about it."

"We were not making googly eyes at each other!" Clark exclaimed, defensively.

"I believe this," John said, "is where I take my leave."

"What about Faora?" Kara asked, immediately, when the older man went to leave.

"I have a heavily-locked vault," John assured them. "She'll be quite comfortable in there, and quite unable to escape."

"We should get Lois home," Kara said. Arching an eyebrow at Clark, she added, "Unless you're comfortable, there?"

Clark rolled his eyes at his cousin and eased himself gently off the car, cradling Lois close to his chest. Then, he and Kara ran back to the farm, and Clark disappeared upstairs to put Lois into his old bed. He gently tucked the blankets up around her chin and watched her sleep for a moment, before going down to the kitchen, where Kara waited.

**XXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXX**

Lois staggered down the stairs, feeling more than half drunk even though she knew she hadn't touched a drop. Not that she didn't want to, with what she remembered of that prison…

The sound of voices from the kitchen drew her in that direction, and when she entered, Clark and Kara looked up from the coffee cups in front of them, and Clark jumped to his feet with a relieved smile on his face.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he teased, pulling a chair out for her that she sank into, gratefully. "We thought you were going to sleep until noon."

"What time is it?" Lois asked, swiping Clark's coffee cup and taking a healthy swallow, wincing at the overly-sugary taste of it.

"Just after eight," Kara told her. "You've been out for almost ten hours."

"I should get knocked out more often," Lois joked, weakly. "I don't get that much sleep on regular nights."

Seeing the looks traded by the cousins, she added, "I was just knocked out, right?"

"Um," Clark said, hesitantly, and Lois dropped her head into her hands with a groan.

"At least tell me I didn't hurt anybody," she begged.

"Lois, anything Faora did in your body wasn't your fault," Kara said, quickly.

"Oh, God, I did hurt someone," Lois groaned, miserably.

"It wasn't you," Clark told her, firmly. "And I called the hospital, and they said that Davis is going to make a full recovery. The pole missed any major organs, and he's recuperating really quickly."

"Davis," Lois repeated. "Davis Bloome, that paramedic friend of Chloe's?"

"You don't remember anything that happened?" Kara asked, incredulously.

"The last thing I remember, we were about to step through that portal and go home," Lois told her. "Then, something shoved me, and I woke up here."

"So, you don't remember anything that happened after we left the Phantom Zone?" Kara pressed, insistently. "Not a single word?"

"Nothing," Lois told her. "Why?"

Kara didn't answer; she just shot Clark an inscrutable look, which he returned with an uneasy smile.

"I get the feeling I'm missing something, here," Lois said, suspiciously.

"Just Clark being a chicken," Kara said, shooting her cousin a glare.

"Being a chicken about what?" Lois asked.

Kara elbowed Clark in the side, and hissed, "Tell her!"

Clark glared back at Kara, and then turned to Lois with a nervous expression on his face.

"Lois," he started, hesitantly, and then stopped, swallowing hard.

"Yes?" Lois prompted, as gently as she could.

"Will you go to Chloe and Jimmy's wedding with me?" Clark blurted out.

"Clark, I'm already going to the wedding," Lois reminded him. "So are you. We're a part of it."

"I know that, but after," Clark explained, quickly. "Like a date."

"A date," Lois echoed, expecting anything but those words.

"Yeah, a date," Clark said, his face falling a little when Lois hesitated. "You know what, forget it," he told her. "It was a bad idea."

"No it wasn't!" Lois said, so emphatically that Clark looked at her in surprise. "I mean, yes, I'll go to Chloe and Jimmy's wedding with you."

"Good," Clark said, a huge smile breaking out over his face. "Great."

"It's a start," Kara muttered, under her breath, pasting an innocent expression on her face when they both looked at her. "What? I didn't say anything."

"What about you, Kara?" Lois asked. "Are you coming to see the happy couple get hitched?"

"No," Kara said, softly, and Clark stared at her in shock.

"Why not?" he demanded.

"When I was in the Phantom Zone," Kara explained, "I heard rumors about Kandor, and enough of it to make me think that they were more than just rumors."

"What's Kandor?" Lois asked.

"It's a city in Krypton," Kara explained. "It's where I was born, and I kept hearing whispers that Kandor had survived, somehow, when Krypton was destroyed."

"You're going out there, to find it," Clark said, understanding what she was getting at. "To find any survivors."

"I have to," Kara said, simply, and tears glistened in her eyes.

Clark stepped forward and enveloped his cousin in a hard hug, which she returned, enthusiastically.

"Be careful," Clark whispered into her hair, and Kara nodded. "Come home safe."

"I will," Kara promised, and then she gave a surprised laugh when Lois hugged her after Clark let her go.

Then, after Lois let her go, Kara went to the door and opened it, floating into the air. From the doorway, Lois and Clark watched her go, Lois squeezing Clark's hand, supportively, when she disappeared from view. Clark continued to watch the sky for a few minutes after she was gone, and then he went back into the house, where Lois was waiting.

"She'll be back," Lois assured him, and Clark nodded.

"I know," he said. "It's just hard to think that she's going somewhere that I can't follow."

"That's what happens when they grow up," Lois told him. "How do you think I felt when Lucy went to boarding school?"

"I guess I never thought of it, that way," Clark acknowledged.

"That's what I'm here for, Smallville," Lois said, cheerfully. "And, now, I believe we have a movie marathon to finish."

"At nine in the morning?" Clark asked, looking at his watch.

"Can you think of a better time?" Lois asked. "You get the popcorn, I'll start the movie."

Clark watched her disappear into the living room, scratching Shelby behind the ears when the dog immediately followed her, and, too low for her to hear, whispered, "I love you, Lois."


	3. Been This Way Before

**Author's Note:** This is a sequel to "Convincing Lois" and "Come to Terms", and takes the place of "Abyss".

**Been This Way Before**

"Lane! My office."

Lois rolled her eyes at Clark when Tess's bellow came across the newsroom. She got up slowly from her chair and sauntered over to Tess's office, poking her head through the doorway to find the other woman bent over her computer, typing furiously.

"You yelled?" Lois asked.

"Shut the door and sit down," Tess snapped, without looking up from her computer screen.

Lois did as she was ordered, her curiosity peaked, and the office practically hummed with tension. Finally, after nearly five minutes of sitting in silence, Tess saved whatever she was working on, and pushed herself away from her desk to stare at Lois.

"Care to explain yourself, Lane?" she asked, her voice hard and angry.

"I would, if I knew you were talking about," Lois replied.

"This," Tess snapped, shoving a folder hard across the desk so that it skidded to a stop in front of Lois. "What is your explanation for this?"

Lois looked down at the pictures she and Jimmy had captured of the not-so-honorable Howard Steckler, Mayor of Metropolis, and Robert Guiardi, mob boss and suspected second-in-command of the shadowy organization known as Intergang. Accompanying the pictures was a carefully-organized report Lois had written up, detailing phone conversations, meetings, and a series of e-mails sent back and forth between the two men concerning Metropolis's criminal element. It was the result of over a month of careful, diligent work by her and Olsen, and Lois was immensely proud of it.

Apparently, Tess wasn't so impressed.

"It's our esteemed mayor, in bed with the wrong kind of people," Lois told her. "Funny thing is, I don't remember writing up the article about this. In fact, I don't see an article at all. I only see my research, which I do distinctly remember locking up in my desk."

She gave Tess a bland smile, but the other woman's expression never changed a bit.

"Mayor Steckler is a powerful man, and a very big contributor to the Daily Planet," Tess told her, coldly. "And the Daily Planet will not engage in a smear campaign against the man who holds our future in his hands."

"More like in his wallet," Lois retorted, sharply. "And it's not a smear campaign if it's true."

"You are not going to write this article," Tess snapped.

"Whatever happened to freedom of the press?" Lois asked, challengingly.

"You are not writing this article," Tess repeated. "And, you're going to tell me who took these pictures."

"Sorry," Lois replied, giving her a tight, humorless smile. "I'm afraid I can't reveal my sources. Reporter's prerogative, you know."

"Give me the name, Lane," Tess spit out, clearly determined to win their little power struggle.

Lois simply crossed her arms and stared back, not saying a word. Tess glared at her for several seconds before finally realizing that Lois wasn't going to budge, and then, with a frustrated snarl, she turned back to her computer and typed furiously for a minute. Then, she turned back to Lois, a triumphant smile creeping over her face.

"You like New York, Lane?" she asked, curiously.

"Love it," Lois shot back, refusing to be intimidated by anything the other woman could dream up.

"Like dog shows?" Tess pressed, insistently.

"There's nothing I like more," Lois retorted, sarcastically.

"Then you'll love a little trip out of town," Tess replied, smugly. "There's a little dog show being held in a village called Groton. And you're going to cover it. The entire week-long shebang. Unless, of course, you'd like to give me the name of your photographer."

"New York sounds like a blast," Lois said. "I'll get packing. The Daily Planet's going to cover my airfare, I assume?"

"Out," Tess snapped, pointing at her door.

Lois sauntered out, with the same nonchalance she'd come in with, shutting the door quietly behind her. As soon as the door shut, Lois heard the hum of a shredder, and blessed Jimmy for his compulsiveness in having them triple-backup their research.

Speak of the devil…

"What did Tess want?" Jimmy asked, in an urgent undertone, when Lois walked out into the bullpen.

"She wanted to talk about the stuff we put together about Steckler," Lois murmured back, keeping her voice quiet so as not to be overheard.

"Did you get in trouble?" Jimmy asked, clearly concerned.

"Nothing I can't handle," Lois assured him.

"What about our research?" Jimmy asked, looking around, nervously, as he spoke.

"Fed to Tess's shredder," Lois said, shortly. "If she thinks that's going to keep me from going after this story, she's got another thing coming."

"Who's got another thing coming?" Clark asked, curiously, as he joined them.

"Just the person I wanted to see," Lois told him.

Grabbing Clark by the arm, she began towing him toward the elevator. Inside, she jabbed the button for the top floor, and Clark looked over at her, quizzically.

"What are we doing?" he asked, and Lois gave him a smile that she hoped looked coquettish – and completely unlike her.

"Do I need an excuse to want to sneak away and spend some time with my favorite guy?" Lois cooed, and she batted her eyes at Clark.

"Are you drunk?" Clark demanded, incredulously, as he leaned closer, more than likely to try and smell alcohol on her breath.

Lois took advantage of their sudden proximity to get up close next to him, and Clark swallowed, hard, clearly uncomfortable with the illusion that they were presenting, of making out in the elevator car.

"Lois, what are you doing?" he demanded quietly, and then he looked down in surprise when Lois put a hand on his chest.

"Shut up and play along," Lois hissed suddenly in his ear, glaring at him. "Put your arms around my waist," she continued, in that same undertone. "And put your hand on my butt."

"Excuse me?" Clark squeaked out, his face gone adorably, brightly red. If he kept that up, he'd never be able to do undercover work.

"Grab my butt," Lois repeated, with what for her was considerable patience. "Act like you can't keep your hands off me, like we're wildly in love."

A strange look passed over Clark's face, at her words, and Lois filed his reaction away for future reference. The elevator dinged open, just then, and Lois pulled Clark out into the hallway, and over to the fire stairs. They went up the two flights to the roof, and then, when the door closed softly behind them, Lois breathed a sigh of relief.

"You," she informed Clark, with an arched eyebrow, "are completely horrible at improvising."

"Would you care to explain exactly what all of that was about?" Clark asked, clearly flustered, his face still bright red.

"We know that Lex put cameras in the elevators," Lois informed him, "and I wouldn't put it past Tess to be using them for the same spying purposes."

"So, that little performance was all for the benefit of anyone who might have been watching us?"

Clark's voice was doubtful, and Lois thought, for a second, that he looked disappointed, but she quickly filed it away as her imagination. There was no way Clark Kent was feeling anything romantic towards her.

"Of course it was," she replied, briskly, walking away from him so he wouldn't see the disappointment cross her own face. "What else would it be?"

"There are no cameras up here, right?" Clark asked, looking around cautiously as he followed her across the roof.

"None that we've been able to find," Lois told him.

"Who are we?" Clark asked, curiously.

"Me and Jimmy," Lois answered. "We've been working on this story for over a month, now-"

"The one Tess killed?" Clark asked. At Lois's raised eyebrow, he elaborated, "I heard you and Jimmy talking."

"What she doesn't know is that wasn't the only copy of our work," Lois told him, triumphantly.

Then, as Clark gawked openly, Lois pulled a slim flash drive out of her blouse, where it had been tucked into her bra. She handed it over to Clark, who took it, numbly.

"And this is?" he asked, and Lois almost laughed at the shock on his face.

"This," she told him, "is everything that proves that Mayor Steckler is dirty. He's got ties to Intergang. Jimmy's got a copy, as well."

"Steckler?" Clark repeated, incredulously. "I voted for that guy!"

"Yeah," Lois grumbled. "So did I."

"So, why give me this?" Clark asked, looking down at the flash drive.

"Someone needs to keep looking into Steckler and Guiardi while I'm gone," Lois told him. "You're elected by virtue of not having been temporarily evicted from the Planet. Just don't get caught."

"What happened to not sharing a byline?" Clark asked, and there was a teasing note in his voice that Lois suspected they were both more comfortable with.

Lois rolled her eyes at him. "Just keep an eye on things while I'm gone," she told him. "We'll talk bylines when I get back."

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

"Chloe!" Lois called out as she entered the apartment above the Talon. "Hey, cuz, I'm home!"

Dumping her duffel bag on the couch, Lois grinned when her cousin appeared in the bedroom doorway.

"You would not believe the week I've had," Lois told her, flopping down on the couch with a relieved sigh. "First, the plane almost couldn't land because of a freak snowstorm that blew in over New York, and then on the way home, my flight was cancelled because someone phoned in a bomb threat.

"Turns out it was real, and they grounded the plane for four hours while they practically took it apart on the runway. I bribed the details out of a rookie Fed, I've got interviews with some passengers and crew, and I've got one hell of a story to write up. Hey, can I use your computer to type up my notes? My laptop battery died."

Lois smiled, charmingly, at Chloe, who still hadn't moved from her spot in the doorway, but her cousin scowled at her.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice flat and her eyes emotionless.

"Well, excuse me for driving all this way from the airport just to see you," Lois retorted, hurt by the younger woman's lack of reaction. "Next time, I'll just call, how's that?"

"What are you doing in my apartment?" Chloe repeated, a little more insistently, and this time there was a bit of fear in her voice that made Lois look at her in surprise. "Who are you?"

"Who-" Lois echoed, stunned. "Chloe, it's Lois." She went from anger to worry in a heartbeat, and took a step toward Chloe, but she backed up, holding her arms up, defensively.

"I don't know you!" Chloe insisted, angrily.

"I'm your cousin," Lois said, soothingly. "You're a year younger than me; you're like a sister to me. Closer, sometimes."

"Prove it," Chloe snapped, still not coming out into the room.

"Okay," Lois said, agreeably, willing to do whatever it took to keep Chloe calm.

Reaching for her duffel bag, she pulled her wallet out of a side pocket and took out a picture of her and Chloe trying on their wedding finery. They had their arms around each other's shoulders and huge grins on their faces as they were mugging for the camera that they'd passed off to a hapless employee at the boutique.

She held the photo out to Chloe, who inched her way out of the doorway, arms wrapped protectively around her waist. She took the photo, silently, lips compressed in a tight line, and she studied the picture for almost a minute before giving it back to Lois.

"You could have faked this," Chloe said, insistently.

"It's not a fake photo!" Lois told her, trying very hard not to lose her patience. "Why would I do that? Chloe-"

She broke off, suddenly, when her cousin's eyes rolled back in her head, and she leapt up from the couch and shoved the coffee table aside to catch Chloe as her knees buckled and she collapsed to the floor. Lois lowered them both to the floor, cradling Chloe against her chest and fumbling with her phone with her free hand. She dialed blind, thankful for speed dial, and listened to the phone ring a couple of times before Clark picked up.

"Clark Kent," he answered, his voice brisk and professional.

"Clark, it's Lois," she said, quickly. "I'm at Chloe's; she's collapsed."

There was no answer on the other end, and for a second, Lois thought they'd been but off, but a second later, she felt a hand on her shoulder and she just about jumped out of her skin.

"What happened?" Clark asked, as he knelt next to her and Chloe.

"I don't know," she told him. "I came in, and Chloe didn't recognize me. She didn't remember me. She got upset, and I was trying to calm her down, and then she passed out.

Lois looked up at Clark, worriedly. "We need to get her to a hospital," she said, "and I figured you'd be faster than any ambulance, so I called you."

"A hospital isn't going to be able to do Chloe any good," Clark told her, and Lois stared at him, incredulously.

"Why not?" she demanded.

"Chloe's been having memory lapses," Clark admitted, quietly. "They've been going on for a while now, apparently."

"She didn't tell me any of this," Lois said, shocked.

"She didn't tell anyone," Clark told her.

"We should still take her to a hospital," Lois argued. "Maybe she won't remember anything when she wakes up, but at least she'll be somewhere safe."

"The hospital can't help Chloe," Clark repeated. "She's been infected by Brainiac."

"Brainiac," Lois echoed, slowly. "That's that supercomputer that you told me about." When Clark nodded, she continued, "How does a computer even infect a person in the first place?"

"Brainiac isn't just a computer," Clark explained. "He's a lot more powerful than that."

"So, we're screwed," Lois said, tears choking her voice.

"No," Clark said. "I think there's a way to fix this."

"Then why the hell didn't you use it, before?" Lois snapped at him.

She wasn't really mad at Clark; it wasn't his fault that Chloe was hurt. But, he was there, and she needed to lash out at someone.

"I couldn't," Clark said, and it was easy to see that he was just as upset as she was. "I – I just – I couldn't. Chloe asked me not to."

"Yeah, well she's hurt now, because of it," Lois said, ruthlessly ignoring the little stab of pain that shot through her heart at the sight of Clark's pained expression. "We're going to fix this. How are we going to fix this?" she asked.

"With this," Clark told her, pulling a very familiar blue crystal out of his shirt pocket, and Lois recoiled, instinctively.

"Put that thing away!" she snapped, furiously, trying to shield Chloe as best as she could. "The last time you touched that thing, it went haywire, and we wound up in Hell!"

"Lois, it's been fixed," Clark reassured her. When Lois still scowled, suspiciously, at him, he added, "It's Chloe's only hope."

"How is it going to work?" Lois asked.

"It's going to rebuild the Fortress," Clark told her. "I think Jor-El can get Brainiac out of Chloe and get everything back to normal."

"Then, let's get going," Lois said, decisively. "Where are we going?"

"The Kawatche caves in Smallville," Clark told her. "There's a portal there that will take us where we need to go."

"Which is where?" Lois asked, insistently.

"The arctic," Clark answered, scooping Chloe up into his arms.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

Lois parked the car, ignoring Clark's frustrated sigh and impatient foot tapping.

"You're putting dents in the floor of my car," she informed him.

"I could have run us here a lot faster," Clark gritted out, as he pulled Chloe out of the backseat and started through the woods toward the caves.

"And risk you dropping Chloe?" Lois asked, rhetorically. "I don't think so."

She lengthened her stride, outpacing Clark rapidly.

"Shake a leg, Smallville," she said, briskly.

Behind her, Clark sighed, quickening his pace. They reached the caves a short while later, and Clark led Lois to the small antechamber in the back, where the portal resided. Shifting Chloe over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, he wrapped his free arm around Lois's shoulders and, after fishing a small piece of metal out of his pocket, placed it on the altar. There was a bright flash of light, and then they found themselves standing in the middle of endless white. Lois gawked openly for a second, before turning to Clark, briskly.

"What now?" she asked.

Lois watched as Clark heaved the crystal away as hard as he could, and then turned to him, eyes flashing.

"If you just threw away Chloe's one chance of survival," she threatened.

"Just watch," Clark insisted, cutting her off before she could finish her thought.

Lois followed his gaze, waiting with what she considered to be immense patience, and then, just when she was about to rip Clark a new one, the ground beneath her feet began to shake, slightly. There in the distance, enormous spires of what appeared to be crystal shot up out of the ground, and Lois felt her jaw drop in astonishment.

"Holy crap," she whispered, and Clark nodded in understanding.

"That was kind of my reaction the first time I saw it, too," he admitted.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Lois asked, changing the subject, abruptly. "Looks like we've got one heck of a walk ahead of us."

"Lois," Clark told her, "there are several miles between us and the Fortress."

"So, let's get going," Lois said. "The sooner we get there, the sooner Chloe gets cured."

"Exactly," Clark said, and right when Lois was about to smack him for being obtuse, he added, "I can get us there a lot faster."

"How?" Lois demanded.

"I'll carry you and Chloe," Clark told her.

Lois eyed Clark, doubtfully, when he shifted Chloe in his arms so that she was cradled against his chest, again, and then he waited, patiently.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" she asked, skepticism in her voice.

Clark heaved an exasperated sigh. "Lois, if I can catch a speeding truck without being budged, then I think I can handle you and Chloe without falling over."

Still less-than-reassured, Lois nonetheless reached up and wrapped her arms around Clark's shoulders. As he crouched down slightly, trying to be helpful, Lois jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Then he straightened, slowly, giving her time to adjust and settle herself.

"Don't let go," he warned her, and then he started running.

Lois didn't know what she'd been expecting. Something like riding a motorcycle, maybe, with the bite of the wind hitting her exposed face. Or, perhaps, a particularly fast horse. But, this was nothing like either of those things.

She was sitting entirely wrong, for one thing, and with each step, Lois was acutely aware of just how little was keeping her on Clark's back. Just the strength of her own arms and legs, since Clark had his hands full with Chloe, and if either failed, she'd find herself left behind in a heartbeat. And Lois had no illusions about it being a soft landing. Snow or not, at the speed they were traveling, if she fell, she'd more than likely be seriously hurt.

With each step, she could feel Clark's sides heaving as he breathed, could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest. And when she tightened her arms around his shoulders, he shivered, slightly. Lois tucked her face into the space between Clark's shoulder blades, to hide from the biting wind that made her cheeks numb, and she caught a whiff of a scent that could only be uniquely Clark: earthy, spicy, and faintly like ink. His body was warm beneath her hands, keeping her from becoming cold despite the freezing temperature.

Far too quickly, Clark stopped running, and Lois lifted her face from his broad back to find them in the same, glittering palace that she and Mrs. Kent had landed in two years ago after their plane crashed. She slid off Clark's back and wandered the length of the room they were in, aimlessly, while Clark placed Chloe on a slab of crystal in the middle of the room. Then, one of the crystals lit up, brightly, and Lois joined Clark when he turned to face the crystal.

"My son," a voice boomed, and Lois remembered that voice all too well. "Why have you brought these humans here?"

"Chloe's sick," Clark spoke up, quickly, before Lois could say something to get herself in trouble. "She was infected by Brainiac, and now she can't remember the people she loves. You can fix her, I know it."

"I can remove the danger the Brain Interactive Construct poses to this human," Jor-El said. "But, it may prove dangerous to others, in turn."

"Jor-El," Clark began, and Lois could see pain on his face. "Father, I brought Brainiac down on this planet. It's my fault he was able to become so powerful. Don't punish Chloe for my mistake."

"There is more at stake than just the life of one human," Jor-El said, and Lois had had enough.

"Maybe the whole world is in danger," she snapped, "but that doesn't mean you can just sacrifice Chloe like she's some sort of pawn. She's a good person, and the world needs more people like her."

Out of the corner of her eye, Lois saw Clark's jaw drop in shock, and she shrugged off the restraining arm he'd placed on her shoulder.

"That may be true," Jor-El began, "but-"

"No but," Lois said, sharply, and beside her, Clark dropped his head into his hands with a quiet groan. "If you kill Chloe just because there might be danger, just because you can't think of a different way, then you're no better than this Brainiac character, in the first place."

The tension that filled the room was thick enough to cut with a knife, and Clark glared at Lois.

"Just once, can't you play nice?" he demanded.

"Nice isn't in my vocabulary," Lois told him.

"You just called him-"

"I am well aware of what your friend called me," Jor-El said, breaking into their conversation before they could start fighting. "And she is right."

"She is?" Clark asked, surprised, while Lois smirked at him.

"I will remove the Brain Interactive Construct from the human," Jor-El continued, as if he hadn't been interrupted. "And I will attempt to restore her memories, although I may not be able to restore all of them."

"Chloe's getting married in a week," Lois spoke up. "She and Jimmy love each other, and she can't lose those memories of him, of what they've shared, together. So, if you have to take something-"

"You are offering your own place in her memories, instead?" Jor-El asked.

"If that's what it takes," Lois replied.

"I believe I can find other, less destructive memories, should it come to that," Jor-El answered. "Now, stand back, please."

Clark tugged Lois back several steps and a bright light surrounded Chloe, completely obstructing her from view. When it faded nearly a minute later, Chloe looked unchanged, and Lois stepped to her cousin's side, looking up at Jor-El's crystal, doubtfully.

"It is done," Jor-El said, and Clark gathered Chloe into his arms, quickly, before Lois could protest.

"Thank you, Father," he said, quietly.

"You have matured, my son," Jor-El said, and Lois could hear pride in his voice. "You are a boy no longer."

"I'll try to make you proud of me," Clark promised. Turning to Lois, he asked, "You ready to go?"

Lois jumped onto Clark's back, again, confident that he wasn't going to drop either her or Chloe, wrapping her legs snugly around his waist.

"Let's go home, Smallville," she said, and Clark laughed.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

"So, is this what it was like when you and Kara were waiting for me to wake up, a couple of weeks ago?" Lois asked, as she got up from the kitchen table to pace the length of the small kitchen in the Kent house.

She stopped at the humming coffee pot to pour herself another cup, gesturing at it as she nodded at Clark, but he shook his head. Lois took a long pull from her coffee mug, thinking back over everything that had happened. Jor-El had transported them instantaneously back to the caves, an experience Lois vaguely remembered and still couldn't believe was real. Clark had run them back to her car, where they'd driven straight back to his house, and then Clark had tucked Chloe into the guest bedroom, and now they were waiting for her to wake up. Waiting, and waiting…

"Pretty much," Clark said, breaking into her thoughts as he sipped at his own cup of coffee.

"I don't like it," Lois decided. "It's too much like waiting at a hospital, and that's just downright depressing."

"Have you done a lot of that?" Clark asked, curiously, trying to keep his mind off worrying about Chloe, and when she was going to wake up.

"Mostly waiting around army hospitals," Lois answered, "when Dad's men or his colleagues were sick or hurt. And then there was when my mom – but that wasn't as long as this. I honestly don't know which is worse."

"Chloe's not dying," Clark said, quickly, trying to reassure her.

"But we don't know how much she's going to remember when she wakes up," Lois reminded him. "She might not remember any of us. We could be strangers to her."

Clark started to say something, but was cut off by the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and then Chloe popped into the kitchen, trying to comb back her unruly, sleep-tousled hair with her fingers.

"I remember not remembering anything," she said, by way of greeting, as she took the chair Clark pulled out for her. "How weird is that?"

"You'd rather have amnesia about having amnesia?" Lois teased her, and Chloe rolled her eyes at her, before dropping her head to the table with a quiet groan.

"I shouldn't have done that," she muttered. "Now I've got a headache."

"You want some aspirin?" Lois asked, concerned, but Chloe shook her head.

"You know," she remarked, "not that I'm complaining, but how did I get my memory back?"

"We took you to Jor-El," Clark told her. "He fixed everything?"

"Jor-El?" Chloe repeated, a puzzled look on her face.

"My father," Clark prompted her, gently, unease on his face.

"Oh, right," Chloe said, quickly. "How could I forget that you found him? He's some sort of doctor, right?"

"More like a miracle worker," Lois interjected, when Clark simply sat, staring at Chloe in shock. "And he says you're going to be just fine."

"That's great," Chloe said. "And, now, if you don't mind, I need to get back home. Jimmy's probably frantic."

"I'll drive you," Lois said, "I've got to get back, too. I've still got a story to write up for tomorrow's morning edition."

"Lois, wait," Clark said, quietly, before she could follow Chloe out the door.

"She's going to be fine," Lois said, immediately, understanding what Clark was getting at. "She's alive and she remembers us. Isn't that enough?"

"I guess it'll have to be," Clark said.

"You did everything you could," Lois told him. "And, speaking of doing your all, how'd your Mayor-watching go?"

"Jimmy Olsen, of all people, thinks that I need to work on my poker face," Clark replied, shaking his head in exasperation. "But, I think we got some good stuff to use on him."

"In that case, you want to come with?" Lois asked, nodding her head at the open door. "We've got a politician to bring down."

"We?" Clark repeated. "I thought you didn't share bylines."

"I said we'd talk about sharing bylines when I got back, and we are," Lois told him. "Partner."


	4. Bleed To Black

**Author's Note: **After I realized just how long my season eight AU was going to be, I decided to lump all the one-shots as chapters of an ongoing story, to keep myself more organized.

**Bleed to Black**

"Explain to me why we're out here, again?"

Lois glared at Clark as she stomped through the unexpected November snowfall in heavy combat boots and her deep orange maid-of-honor dress.

"Because the caterers, in their infinite wisdom, forgot to bring a display stand for the wedding cake, like they agreed to do, not to mention several dozen other little things essential to finishing their preparations," Lois growled through gritted teeth. "Not only are they too afraid of the weather to go out on their own, they tried to use your mother's good crystal cake plate, and almost immediately tried to drop it."

"Don't worry," she added, when Clark shot her an alarmed look, "both cake plate and caterers are intact. Although the night is young," she muttered, under her breath.

"Is there a reason you couldn't change into jeans before we left?" Clark asked.

"There was no time," Lois told him, still sounding slightly peeved. "Besides," she added, with a pointed look at Clark, "it's not like my dress is getting wet."

Clark melted another patch of snow and ice from the sidewalk in front of them with a short, quick burst of his heat vision. Behind them, the clean, dry sidewalk stood out in sharp contrast to the mounds of snow on either side.

"You know," he remarked, "I could have run out here a lot faster."

"You wouldn't know what to look for," Lois told him. "I don't even really know what we're looking for."

As they arrived at the store, Clark beat Lois to the door by a few seconds and held it open for her, waving her inside with a gallant bow. Lois rolled her eyes at him, before making a beeline for the kitchenware section at the back of the store. Clark followed, and found himself under the intense scrutiny of overly-curious shoppers as they openly gawked at the couple in formal dress. Lois never even seemed to notice the attention, so focused was she on her goal.

"What do you think?" Lois asked, when Clark had caught up with her back in the kitchenware section. "Obviously plastic, or passably-imitation crystal?"

She held up a pair of cake plates for Clark's approval, and he frowned, hesitantly.

"They both look the same to me," he finally admitted, and Lois shook her head in exasperation.

"You're hopeless," she chided," and Clark fought back a grin at the affection in her tone.

"Why do you think I have you around?" Clark asked, cheekily.

"This one," Lois declared, rather than responding, as she held up one of the cake plates. "It looks nicer."

Decision made, she made her way up to the registers, detouring every few feet to grab another item declared 'absolutely essential' by the caterers, loading up Clark's arms in lieu of a shopping cart. When they reached the registers, the cashier gaped at Lois while he started to ring them up.

"Are you going to a wedding?" he finally blurted, clearly unable to hold back his curiosity.

"Yep," Lois answered, shortly.

"Isn't the bride supposed to wear white?"

Lois ignored the question, probably hoping to dissuade the kid, but he didn't seem to get the hint.

"What's with the combat boots?"

Clark winced as the kid planted his foot very firmly in his mouth, and Lois gave him a slow, sweet smile.

"The boots are insurance," she confided in a falsely-bright tone. "If he says no, I can kick his ass."

The cashier's eyes widened and Lois took advantage of his momentary distraction to snatch the bags and her change from his hands. She hustled to the door, and when Clark caught up with her outside, she grinned at him, her shoulders shaking with barely-suppressed laughter.

"That wasn't very nice," Clark told her.

"Oh, he had it coming," Lois said. "Besides, did you see the look on his face?"

"I think he swallowed his tongue," Clark said, smiling slightly.

"Imagine what he'd have done if I really turned up the charm," Lois said, lightly.

Then, she took a deep breath and sighed, closing her eyes and tipping her head back so that the snow fell on her face.

"Isn't it beautiful?" she asked, a little wistfully.

"It is," Clark agreed, "and cold. Why didn't we drive?"

"Because both our cars were blocked in and getting them out would have revealed your secret to everyone at the wedding," Lois stated, matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, that was a lot of cars," Clark agreed. "Where did all those people come from?"

"Out of the woodwork, as far as I'm concerned," Lois replied. "I had no idea Chloe and Jimmy knew so many people until I helped Chloe with the wedding invitations."

She took another deep breath of the cold air, suddenly, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to let the snow fall on her face, again.

"I wish we could stay out here, forever," she remarked. "But, I guess it's back to the rush."

She started walking, again, and Clark fell naturally into step beside her. They walked in silence for several minutes, and when Clark noticed Lois shivering, he took his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders. She smiled at him in thanks, leaning closer against his side.

Lois's steps faltered, and Clark looked in the direction she was looking, and he saw a figure standing in the shadows, hard to see through the falling snow. Lois nudged Clark in the ribs and he moved toward the edge of the sidewalk, keeping himself between Lois and the stranger. The stranger, a man, moved with them and blocked their way when they tried to move past him.

"Excuse us," Clark said, politely, keeping a wary eye on the man's hands, still buried in his pockets.

"Gimme your wallets," the man growled, his voice low and gravelly.

"Buddy," Lois said, with a laugh, "you really picked the wrong people to rob."

"Gimme your wallets," the man repeated, his voice harder, angrier, at Lois's retort. One of his hands came out of his pockets, and he brandished a gun at them, wildly.

"Give us the gun and just walk away," Clark advised, keeping his own voice quiet and non-threatening.

The man's eyes narrowed in anger, and Clark moved slowly so that he was more in front of Lois. A second later, the muzzle of the gun flashed and Clark felt something small impact his side. Then, he heard a sharp gasp from behind him, and he turned to see Lois with her hands clutched over her stomach, breathing in short, shallow gasps.

Horrified, he stepped toward her, and caught her when her knees buckled and she collapsed into his arms. He pressed a hand to her stomach, swallowing hard when it came away coated in warm, sticky, black blood.

"You're going to be okay," he said, immediately, when Lois fumbled for his hand, gripping as hard as she could.

He gathered Lois up against his chest, hearing her fast heartbeat, faint even to his ears, and he ran to the Smallville Medical Center, as fast as he could.

"Help me!" he shouted, bursting through the doors to the emergency room. "She's been shot!"

A swarm of doctors and nurses surrounded them and took Lois away from Clark, who moved backward to stay out of their way.

"Get a room in the OR ready!" one of the doctors snapped, and a pair of nurses ran off down the hallway.

"One gunshot wound to the abdomen," another doctor, in a lab coat, stated, his voice calm despite the chaos in the room. "No exit wound."

"I can't find a pulse!" one of the nurses called out, suddenly.

"Get me a defibrillator," Lab Coat said, calmly, and Clark wanted to shake the man until he got some sense of the urgency of the situation. Didn't he realize Lois was dying?

Lab Coat sliced through the bodice of Lois's dress to expose her chest, and a nurse put the defibrillator paddles into his outstretched hands. He put the paddles on Lois's chest, around her heart, and a faint whine filled the air.

"Charging," someone called out, and then the doctor called out, "Clear," as he triggered the machine.

Lois's body jerked as the electricity jolted through her, but the nurse shook her head, and the doctor ordered another discharge. Time seemed to slow to a stop as Clark watched the doctors and nurses work frantically to try and save Lois's life. Then, far too soon, the doctor shook his head and looked over at a nearby clock.

"Call it," he said, quietly, his voice heavy with regret. "Time of death, two-fifteen PM."

"No," Clark whispered, hoarsely, but no one seemed to hear him. "She's not dead."

One of the nurses covered Lois with a sheet, and Clark moved across the room and shoved the woman away as he ripped the sheet off Lois's face. Her eyes were closed, and her skin had already started to turn a dull, gray pallor.

"She's not dead," Clark repeated, even as he stared at the evidence in front of him.

"Sir," the nurse said, gently, taking his arm to lead him away. "Sir, come with me."

"She's not dead!" Clark insisted, yanking his arm out of the woman's grasp. "She's not dead, she's not dead, she's-"

Clark jerked awake at a shout, then as the sound echoed in the room, he realized that he'd been the one shouting. Snapping on the light beside his bed, he grabbed his cell phone and fumbled it open, frantically dialing Lois's number.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up," he muttered, impatiently, as her phone rang once, twice, three times.

After the fourth ring, Clark snapped his phone shut in frustration and sped downstairs and out of the house. He ran down the road, through Smallville and through the streets of Metropolis until he was standing at the door to Lois's new apartment.

"Lois!" he shouted, pounding on her door, heedless of who he might wake up. "Lois, open up!"

Still impatient, he grabbed her doorknob and twisted, only to feel it pop off in his hand. Then, the door was yanked out of his grasp and he looked up to see Lois standing in her doorway: bunny-covered pajamas, wildly-disheveled hair, and a Louisville slugger held high in her hands.

"What the hell, Smallville?" she exploded, when she saw him standing in front of her. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"I wanted to see that you were all right," Clark defended himself.

Lois stared at him, incredulously, for several seconds, and then her gaze landed on the doorknob in his hand. She looked quickly back at the door she'd pulled open and then back to him.

"That's my doorknob," she stated, flatly, and Clark sheepishly held out the knob, which she snatched from his hand. "And you warped the hinges," she continued, turning her back on him and stalking away, leaving him to see himself into the apartment.

"I'm sorry," Clark apologized, guiltily.

"You're buying me a new door," Lois informed him. "And you're installing it. I'm not going to have my landlord kicking me out because you can't hold your horses."

"Okay," Clark agreed, unable to keep from grinning now that he'd seen for himself that Lois was all right.

"So, why are you here?" Lois demanded, once Clark had sat down across from her on the couch.

"I had this dream," Clark told her, "a nightmare, actually."

"And so you felt the need to run over to my place and break my door down at two AM?" Lois asked, her voice gaining that particular even quality that just screamed trouble for the person she was talking to.

Clark watched her hand twitch on the handle of the baseball bat and had the feeling that if he didn't offer up an excellent explanation, invulnerable or not, Lois was going to be taking a few swings at him with it. And from the particularly annoyed look in her eyes, he knew she'd somehow be able to make it hurt. He swallowed, hard, nervously.

"You died in it," he explained, quickly.

"I'm not dead," Lois told him, calmly.

"I can see that," Clark said. "But, that's why I came over."

"Well, I'm fine," Lois said. "So, go home."

When Clark tried to protest, Lois forestalled him with an upraised hand.

"I need to get some sleep," she stated. "You need to get some sleep. Because you're not going to walk Chloe down the aisle looking like a raccoon. Do I make myself clear?"

"Okay," Clark said, quickly.

"And stop agreeing with everything I say," Lois grumbled at him. "It's creepy."

"Okay," Clark replied, just to tease her.

Lois shook her head in exasperation and walked him to the door, rising up on her toes to give him a quick, grumpy peck on the cheek.

"Go home," she said, as though she were talking to Shelby. "I'll see you in the morning."

She shoved the warped door closed behind him when he stepped out into the hallway, and he listened carefully until he heard her going back into her bedroom. Then, reluctantly, he ran back to the farm, and fell into bed, asleep the second his head hit the pillow.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

"Will you hurry up?" Clark shouted up the stairs. "We're going to be late."

"The wedding's being held in your barn," Lois reminded him, appearing on the top landing, hopping slightly as she tried to slip a shoe on her foot. "It's hard to be late when you're five seconds away."

She gave one last, determined hop, finally forcing her foot into the shoe, and then gave a yelp when she lost her balance and tumbled down the stairs, straight into Clark's arms.

"Nice catch," Lois praised him, slightly out of breath from her unexpected fall.

"Good thing I was standing right here," Clark replied, his heart still racing from the almost-close call. "You could have broken your neck."

"I'm fine, Smallville," Lois said, rolling her eyes at the overly-concerned tone of his voice.

"Let's get going," Clark told her, pulling away from her and heading for the door.

"Smallville, wait," Lois called out, and Clark turned away, raising a curious eyebrow.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I don't really know how to say this," Lois said, as she walked over to where he was standing. "It's a lot harder than I thought it was going to be."

"Lois, what is it?" Clark repeated, worriedly. "You know, you can tell me anything."

"Clark, I-" Lois started, hesitantly. She shook her head, slightly, still obviously having a hard time with whatever she was trying to say. "I-"

_'Love you,'_ Clark finished, in his thoughts, before mentally kicking himself. He had no proof that those were the words Lois was going to utter.

"I-" she tried, a third time, and Clark couldn't help his heart leaping wildly in his chest. "I'm moving to London," Lois finished in a rush.

Clark stared at her in shock. Of all the things she could have said, that was the last thing he ever would have expected.

"Moving to London?" he repeated, numbly. "Lois, why?"

"Well, the Daily Planet has a satellite office there, and it's where Lucy's going to school, so I'll be close to her, and-"

Here she faltered, looking quickly away, but he still caught the glint of tears in the corner of her eyes, and the look of utter anguish on her face.

"I've come to realize," Lois continued, determinedly plowing on, "that, while you and I are very good friends, that's all we're ever going to be. I tried to just ignore my feelings, but it's just too hard, being around you every day and knowing that you only see me as a friend. So I'm going somewhere I won't be reminded of you every day."

Clark felt his jaw drop in shock, but before he could say something, anything, to make Lois change her mind, she went on.

"My flight leaves right after the wedding," she told him. "I'm catching a ride to the airport with the General. I just – it's been fun, Smallville. I hope you find a good partner to work with."

With that, she whirled around and walked past him, out into the front yard. Clark simply stood in the kitchen, staring after her, unable to make himself go after her, even though his every instinct was screaming at him to move. All he could do was watch her walk off into the distance.

"Lois," he whispered, quietly. "Lois, I love you."

When Clark woke up for the second time, this time to the feeling of Shelby anxiously nudging his hand, he didn't even bother with the cell phone; he just ran to Lois's apartment and burst inside, shouting her name. Lois bolted out of her bedroom like it was on fire and then skidded to a stop when she saw him standing in the middle of her living room. Clark crossed the distance between them in three steps and swept Lois into his arms, hugging her tightly. She hugged him back, for about two seconds, and then pulled out of his arms to glare at him.

"Please don't move to London," he said, quickly.

"I'm not," Lois said, baffled. "Why would I be moving to London?" Then, she seemed to remember where she was, and she glared at him, again.

"Three. A. M." she informed him, icily. "You'd better have a really good reason for being here."

"I dreamt you were leaving," Clark told her. "I thought I'd lost you. I wanted to check on you."

"There's this wonderful new invention called a phone," Lois said, heading toward the kitchen.

"You never answer yours," Clark said, sulkily. "And what are you doing?"

"If you're going to insist on keeping me awake, then I need ice cream," Lois said, opening her freezer and digging around in the back. "I know I've got the good stuff in here – aha!" she declared, holding up a carton of triple fudge brownie like it was a prize.

"So, why couldn't you call, again?" Lois asked, leading him back to the living room and plopping down on the rocking chair and leaving the couch for Clark.

"You don't answer your phone," Clark repeated.

"Well, maybe if you didn't call me in the middle of the night, I would," Lois snapped at him.

"I just wanted to check on you," Clark muttered, feeling a little foolish about having interrupted her sleep twice in one night.

"You were really worried, weren't you?" Lois asked, looking over at him.

"I just-" Clark repeated, softly. "I don't want to lose you."

"You're not going to lose me, Clark," Lois told him. "I'm not going anywhere. Certainly not London. And I'm not dying, either," she continued, when he still looked doubtful, and he flinched at the reminder of his earlier nightmare.

Lois had polished off a good amount of the ice cream by that point, and Clark looked at the dwindling remains with a raised eyebrow.

"It was already more than half empty when I took it out," Lois said, defensively, seeing the direction of his gaze.

"Sure," Clark said, agreeably. "Can I try some?"

"This is twice, now, that you've woken me up, in less than an hour, and you broke my door," Lois reminded him. "What makes you think I'm giving you my ice cream?"

Clark shot her a slightly pouty look, and Lois relented after a minute, passing the carton and spoon over to him. Clark grinned as he sampled the ice cream, only to have the smile fly off his face a second later when something soft hit him on the side of the head. He picked the pillow up off the floor and looked at it curiously.

"You're staying here for the night," Lois informed him, dumping a blanket onto the cushion beside him. "That way, if you have another nightmare, you can keep from waking me up over it."

"Lois, I don't want to take up your couch," Clark protested, automatically.

"I'm certainly not using it this early in the morning," Lois told him. "And if you leave, and then come back again, I might have to kill you."

"I'm invulnerable, remember?" Clark said, lightly, and then swallowed, hard, when he saw the annoyed look in Lois's eyes. "Right, sleeping here, sounds good," he stammered, quickly.

"I knew you'd see things my way," Lois said, triumphantly. "Now, I am going to bed. Turn the light off when you finish your ice cream."

She turned away, but a few seconds later, she turned back and sank down on the couch beside him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Clark sighed heavily as he leaned into her embrace, his shoulders drooping with tension. Lois rubbed a gentle hand up and down his back, and they sat together for a few quiet minutes. Finally, Clark reluctantly pulled away, and Lois stood up, stretching as she stepped away from the couch.

"Get some sleep, Smallville," she told him, quietly. "I'll see you in the morning."

She went back into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her, and Clark ate the ice cream, trying his hardest to ignore the little voice that pouted over not getting a second goodnight kiss. When he was finished, he lay down and covered himself with the blanket, but he couldn't manage to fall asleep. He just kept staring up at the ceiling, watching the interesting pattern made by flickering shadows.

Finally, he couldn't stand it any longer. Throwing back the covers, he jumped off the couch and crossed the room in a few, quick strides. He eased Lois's door open, gently, not willing to risk her ire if he broke two doors in one night, and then froze in her doorway when the light from the hallway spilled onto her face and she shifted in her sleep. The expression on her face was relaxed and peaceful, not filled with pain or heartbreak like it had been in all of his nightmares, and her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm with each breath she took.

Clark let out a sigh of relief, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes when he saw for sure that she was safe. He considered going back to bed, but shuddered violently at the thought of having yet another nightmare. Giving up on sleep as a lost cause, Clark settled in Lois's doorway for the rest of the night, watching her sleep and letting the quiet sound of her heartbeat fill his ears.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

Lois emerged from her bedroom the next morning, rumpled, tired, and desperate for coffee. She'd made it all the way to the coffee maker, poured herself a cup, and drank it down in a few quick swallows before she woke up enough to realize that she hadn't started the coffee maker earlier. Which had to mean…

"Good morning!"

Oh, yeah.

Lois turned around, second cup of coffee still cradled carefully in her hands, to see Clark sitting at her kitchen table, an overly-cheerful grin on his face and a pile of shopping bags cluttering the table.

"You've been busy," she observed, sipping at her coffee.

Clark shrugged. "They're for you," he told her, nodding at the bags.

Lois resisted for about thirty seconds, and then her curiosity got the better of her, and she started rummaging through the bags.

"What's the occasion, Smallville?" she asked, as she poked idly through the bags to find a bunch of obscure food items and other things that she'd only heard of after long conversations with the caterers for Chloe's wedding.

"I couldn't sleep," Clark told her. "I kept having nightmares."

"So, you bought me groceries and shoes?"

Utterly baffled now, Lois lifted a long shoebox out of one of the bags and pulled off the lid to find a pair of beautifully-decorated sneakers in the exact same shade as her dress.

"I already have shoes for the wedding," Lois told him.

"These will be more comfortable," Clark assured her. "You've got all those things to do as maid of honor, and I know you're not going to trust anyone else with the wedding preparations."

"Thanks, Smallville," Lois said, touched by the sweet gesture.

She was going to say something more but her phone rang, and she answered it with a brisk, "Lois Lane."

She then listened in shock as one of the caterers launched into a rant about his fellows and their incompetence.

"Hold it!" Lois barked into the phone, startling the man into silence. "What's going wrong?"

"We are missing several key items," the man informed her, haughtily, before giving her a long, detailed list of everything they were missing. Everything, as a matter of fact, that was sitting in Clark's grocery bags.

"Quiet," Lois snapped, cutting the man off, mid-rant, as he fell into stunned silence. "I've got everything under control." With that, she hung up on the man, abruptly.

"That was actually kind of fun," she decided, grinning at Clark. "And since when is psychic part of your repertoire?"

"It's not," Clark told her. "It's just a feeling I had."

"Some feeling," Lois said, arching an eyebrow at him.

"You don't know the half of it," Clark muttered, under his breath. When Lois shot him a curious look, he said, "Not bad for eight in the morning, huh?"

"It's already eight?" Lois demanded, staring at Clark in horror. "Why did you let me sleep so long?"

"You looked like you needed it?" Clark ventured, sheepishly.

"Chloe and Jimmy's wedding is at one o'clock!" Lois exploded. "I should have been up hours ago!"

She ran back to her bedroom, and at the door, turned and glared at Clark.

"Congratulations," she told him, "you've just been chosen to help me set up for the wedding."

Then, she slammed the door, leaving Clark alone in the kitchen. Nearly fifteen minutes later, Lois emerged from her bedroom in jeans and a tee-shirt, her hair still damp from her shower. Her dress was in a clear plastic bag hanging over her arm, and she laid it over the back of a chair before she began gathering up the bags Clark had bought.

"Come on, Smallville," she snapped, when she saw Clark just sitting and watching her. "Chop, chop. We've got to get all of this stuff to your farm, and we need to do it, now."

"Is this all you need to bring?" Clark asked. "Everything else is out at the farm?"

"Yeah, it's all piled up in your kitchen – hey!" she exclaimed, indignantly, when Clark started gently tugging the bags out of her hands.

"I've got a faster way," Clark assured her.

Then, before Lois could protest, Clark scooped her up into his arms, and sped out the door and down the street toward Smallville. Almost immediately, Lois tucked her head into his shoulder as protection against the wind, and she took a moment that felt almost guilty to enjoy the feeling of Clark's arms around her. All too soon it was over, and Clark reluctantly set Lois down in the middle of his kitchen.

"My hair's dry," Lois remarked, reaching back to run her fingers through her hair. "That's handy."

"I'll just go get the rest of that stuff," Clark told her, heading back out the door.

"Don't wrinkle my dress!" Lois hollered after him.

Then, she turned her attention back to the wedding paraphernalia littering Clark's kitchen.

**XXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXX**

By eleven, she and Clark had the barn decorated to the last inch, and chairs set out for the guests. The caterers were hard at work in the kitchen getting the food ready for the reception, and the General and Lucy, who'd arrived early, were busy seating guests, to give Lois and Clark the chance to get ready.

"Can you help me with this?" Clark called, as he came out of his bedroom, hearing Lois coming down the stairs. Then, he looked up from the cufflink he'd been fumbling with in time to see her appear on the landing, and his jaw dropped open in shock.

"Speechless, Smallville?" Lois teased, lightly, as she came down the rest of the stairs to join him.

"You – you look amazing," Clark told her, still stunned.

"You look pretty good, yourself," Lois told him, reaching up to fuss with his jacket and tie. "So, what were you yelling about?"

"These – these cufflinks," Clark managed, finding it very hard to talk when Lois had her hands all over him. "I can't get them fastened."

"Well, that's simple enough," Lois said, making short work of the unwieldy cufflinks. Clark pulled his hands away, reluctantly, when she was done.

"Here are your flowers," he said, quickly, snatching the small bouquet off a small table to keep his shaking hands from being too visible.

"Do you have Jimmy's ring?" Lois asked, and Clark patted his breast pocket in reassurance.

"Looks like we're ready," Clark remarked.

"One more thing," Lois said, quietly, and when Clark turned to look at her, she went up on her toes and pecked him softly on the cheek. "For luck," she explained, an unreadable look in her eyes, and then she headed for the front door.

"Lois, wait!" Clark called out, suddenly, not even really sure why he wanted her to stop.

Then, when Lois turned and looked at him, and he saw her expression, a mix of amusement, impatience, and affection, he knew exactly what he was going to say.

"Lois," he began, "when the jeweler had us strapped to that lie detector-"

Lois's expression changed to one of disbelief. "Now?" she demanded, incredulously. "You want to talk about this, now?"

"When he asked me if I loved you," Clark pressed on, doggedly.

"You didn't answer," Lois interrupted. "You head-butted him and then we escaped, which makes a lot more sense now than it did then."

"I don't know how I would have answered then," Clark continued, not letting Lois distract him. "But I know how I'd answer, now."

"And what would that answer be?" Lois asked, cautious hope in her voice.

"Yes," Clark said, simply, and he watched Lois's eyes fill with tears she refused to shed. Then, she swallowed, hard, and smacked him lightly on the arm.

"What took you so long?" she muttered.

Clark let out a relieved laugh, which was abruptly cut off when Lois yanked his face down and kissed him, hard. She pulled back after a few seconds, and while he was still reeling, walked over to the door and opened it.

"Come on, Smallville," she said, smiling. "We've got a wedding to go to."

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

The ceremony was short, only about half an hour, and then everyone scattered around the barn for the reception. A slow song came on over the speakers, and Clark looked around for Lois, only to find her already out on the dance floor with her father. They looked deep in conversation, and when the General looked in his direction, he had a feeling he knew exactly what they were talking about.

_'You are a grown man. You are invulnerable,' _Clark told himself, sternly. _'You are not afraid of General Sam Lane.'_

Squaring his shoulders, Clark marched over to where father and daughter were dancing, and tapped the General on the shoulder.

"May I cut in?" he asked, politely.

General Lane stepped back, and Lois shifted into Clark's arms without missing a beat. The General then leaned in close to Lois.

"You and I are going to have a very long talk, later," he said, into Clark's ear, and the younger man swallowed, hard.

"Okay," he decided, after the General had walked away, "that's terrifying."

"You should see how he is when he doesn't like one of my boyfriends," Lois said, with a quiet chuckle, then she froze when she realized what she'd said.

"Boyfriend?" Clark repeated. "Is that what I am to you?"

Lois nodded, and Clark could see the courage it had taken her to admit even that.

"Boyfriend," he repeated, testing the word out. "I like the sound of that."

"So do I," Lois declared, smiling at him.

Clark took advantage of her upturned face to lean down and cover her lips with his. Lois leaned into the kiss, winding her arms around Clark's neck. Clark closed his eyes as their kiss deepened, but they flew open a second later when he heard a soft clicking sound. Caught off balance, he stumbled forward, looking down in surprise when his and Lois's feet hit the ground.

_'Were we floating?'_ he thought, in amazement. He was distracted by that train of thought when Lois dropped her forehead against his shoulder.

"Gimme the camera, Olsen," she demanded, sticking out a hand in Jimmy's direction.

"No way," Jimmy declared, lowering the disposable camera he'd grabbed off a nearby table. He flashed them a huge smile and added, "This'll be my "I told you so," proof."

"Can I get a copy of that?" Clark asked, nodding at the camera. "It's our first, real, non mind-whammied kiss, and I want to commemorate it."

"Sure thing, CK," Jimmy said, still smiling.

Lois wasn't though. "What do you mean 'non mind-whammied'?" she demanded, suspiciously, stepping back to stare at Clark.

"Um," Clark said, nervously. "Lois, what I meant was-"

"We'll be talking about this, later," Lois told him, smiling brightly, and Clark winced.

"You're even more terrifying than your father," Clark informed her.

"He taught me well," Lois said, still smiling.

Clark grinned back at her, stepping forward for another kiss, and that's when the screaming started.

They whirled around, Clark pushing Lois behind him even as she stepped away from his arm and up beside him. Jimmy immediately raised the camera to his eye and began snapping photos. And Clark looked up to see a monster coming down the stairs from the loft.

"What is that thing?" Lois asked, in a hushed whisper.

"I don't know," Clark replied, "but I'm going to stop it."

He sped forward, darting in and out among the fleeing, panicking crowd. He struck the monster at mid-chest, driving it back into the wooden stairs, hearing them crack from the impact. The monster growled and took a step forward, and then swatted at Clark like he was a particularly-annoying fly.

Clark flew backward into the wall of the barn and saw, to his horror, the top of the wall began buckling inward, and the roof started to collapse. Clark jumped up, catching as many chunks of the roof as he could. A cry of pain behind him as he landed told him he hadn't been fast enough, and he turned to find one of Jimmy's fellow photographers pinned beneath a severed piece of one of the support beams. He lifted the beam up, and pulled the young woman to her feet.

"Are you all right?" he demanded.

When she could only nod, shakily, he pushed her toward the newly-made hole in the side of the barn. He looked around for the monster, but could only see people sprinting toward the doors. Then, there was a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye, and he turned to see the monster emerging from the shadows – and Chloe holding Lucy directly in the monster's path. Lucy was crying and screaming incoherently, tears streaking down her face.

Clark started forward, but even for all his speed, he wasn't fast enough. There were too many people between him and the monster, and he found himself practically frozen in place. Just like his nightmare.

"Help me!" Lucy screamed, hysterically, sobbing wildly, and Clark could feel his heart breaking as he struggled to get to the younger girl.

He couldn't understand why he couldn't move any faster than he was, until he saw the glowing green chunk of kryptonite in Chloe's hand, and realized that he was close enough for it to have an effect on him. Regardless, he redoubled his efforts to force his way through the panicked crowd.

"Daddy!" Lucy screamed, as the monster continued its slow advance towards her. "Lois, help!"

Clark instinctively looked for Lois when Lucy called out for her sister, and to his horror, he saw Lois striding toward the monster with a determined look on her face and a short jagged-edged piece of wood in her hands.

With a wordless snarl, Lois swung the piece of wood at the monster's head. It wasn't nearly hard enough to seriously wound the monster, but a piece broke off in its eye, making it stagger backward and howl in pain. Then, Lois whirled around and punched Chloe squarely across the jaw. She collapsed, releasing Lucy's arm in the process, and Lois grabbed her sister's arm, shoving her into the crowd to disappear as just another face.

The monster growled as it lurched forward, after Lucy, and Lois planted herself directly in its path.

Clark had a moment to admire Lois's sheer fearlessness, and then the monster swiped out a clawed hand as casually as it had swatted Clark, and Lois flew backward to slam against a support beam, her head impacting with a sharp crack. She slumped to the floor in a boneless heap and didn't move.

"Lois!" Clark screamed, his heart shattering even as he prayed to wake up from this latest nightmare.

But there was no reprieve, only an unending agony when he finally reached Lois and saw the torrent of blood covering her stomach. He realized that Lois was never going to move, or laugh, or call him Smallville ever again. He dropped to his knees beside her too-still body and reached out a shaking hand to slowly close her eyes.

Behind him, he heard Chloe laugh, a low, dark, ugly sound, and he whirled around, furiously, to face her, only to double over in pain and collapse on top of Lois when Chloe – or rather, Brainiac – held the chunk of kryptonite out, watching dispassionately as he writhed in pain.

"How the mighty have fallen," Brainiac mocked him, kicking Clark hard in the stomach and watching him groan, weakly.

Behind Brainiac, the monster stalked toward Clark, but was stopped when Brainiac put an arm out in front of its chest.

"He said to kill him," the monster growled.

"On my time, not his," Brainiac drawled. "I'll kill Kal-El when I feel the time is right. Until that time-"

Brainiac bent down and placed the kryptonite near Clark's face. "Suffer and grieve," he said, smugly. He stepped back and watched as Clark tried to recoil from the kryptonite, in so much pain he couldn't even breathe.

"Come on," Brainiac said, briskly, turning and walking away. "We're leaving.

The monster reluctantly followed, and they sped out of the barn, leaving death and destruction in their wake. Clark tried to follow them, to stop them, but the most he could do was knock the kryptonite away and move a short distance after them before he collapsed, again, from the pain. All he could do was watch Brainiac and the monster disappear into the distance.

Around him, the panicked, stampeding had stopped and the fearful screaming had turned into hysterical weeping. Sirens sounded in the distance, and Clark tried to get to his feet, to help with the injured and the dead, but the only thing he had strength for was dragging himself back to where Lois lay. Exhausted and heartbroken, sobbing with grief, Clark cradled Lois to his chest.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered into her hair. "Lois, I'm so sorry, I should have been faster. I'm so sorry. Lois…"


	5. There Is A Season

**June, 3009**

Christopher Kent considered himself to be, for the most part, an easygoing guy. Yeah, being Superman had meant he had his share of fans, and he was slowly becoming used to people coming up out of the blue and demanding photos and autographs. But, crowds of people that followed him down the street, whispering and pointing from a distance?

That took a lot of getting used to.

Chris heard whispering behind him, and he resisted the urge to turn around and look at the huddle of children that was staring at him, nearby. A few seconds later, rapid footsteps came up from behind him and he felt something tug at his cape, quickly followed by the sound of the children bursting into laughter that was hastily-muffled as his best friend finally turned around and glared at them. Chris heaved a deep sigh and kept staring straight ahead as they kept walking.

"Just ignore them," Garth advised, as the children finally scattered.

"What do you think I've been trying to do?" Chris asked. "It's not like they're making this easy on me."

"People are excited to see you," Garth told him. "You're Superman, for crying out loud."

"Yeah, but I'm not the Superman they want to see," Chris reminded him. "Do they even realize that I'm not my dad?"

"It's the suit they're excited to see," Garth corrected him. "It could be a Jhindoran wearing the suit, and they'd be excited."

Chris took a moment to imagine one of the raccoon-faced Jhindorii wearing the suit, and shuddered at the image.

"I'm never getting that picture out of my head," he grumbled at Garth, who grinned at him.

"And that," he continued, a few seconds later. "That's just weird."

He gestured emphatically at the enormous statues of Clark Kent and Lois Lane-Kent that graced the plaza in front of the Daily Planet.

"I mean, it doesn't even look like my parents," he said.

"It's close enough," Garth said, as he looked the statues over.

"It's just-" Chris started to protest, and then he trailed off with a sigh.

"Your parents founded this utopia," Garth said. "Everything we have is due to them and people want to honor them for it. They teach your parents' origins in school, stores sell Superman dolls, there's even a Lois Lane breakfast cereal."

"You're kidding," Chris said, flatly, giving Garth an incredulous look.

"It's part of a nutritionally-balanced breakfast," Garth quoted the commercial, and Chris rolled his eyes.

"My mother has been turned into a breakfast cereal," he grumbled. "Now I really have seen everything."

"It's not a bad cereal," Garth told him.

"You are such a geek," Chris said, in exasperation. Then, "So, why did you come back to twenty-thirty-three and get me, anyway? I doubt it was just for a visit."

"It's the Time Trapper," Garth told him, and Chris turned to his friend, his eyes widening in panic.

"Is he loose?" he demanded, furiously.

"No," Garth reassured him, quickly, and Chris let out a sigh of relief.

If he never had to deal with the Time Trapper again, it would be too soon. Shortly after he'd taken on the mantle of Superman, the Time Trapper had shown up and tried to kill both him and his father. With his father incapacitated by a nearly fatal Kryptonite infection (the whole reason Chris had taken up the suit in the first place) it had been up to Chris to try and stop the Time Trapper.

He'd almost lost his first major battle, had come uncomfortably close to losing his life, had it not been for the Legion. The time-travelers had stepped in at the eleventh hour and their arrival had distracted the Time Trapper long enough for Chris to get the upper hand. But their victory hadn't come without its costs, and after turning the Time Trapper over to the thirty-first century authorities, Chris had joined the Legion in mourning their fallen members.

"He's being extradited," Garth was saying, drawing Chris out of his thoughts and back to the present.

"Extradited where?" Chris asked, figuring Garth was still talking about the Time Trapper.

"The prison colony on Mars," Garth told him. "The Manhunters have sent out a team to collect him."

"Wouldn't the Phantom Zone be a better choice for holding the Time Trapper?" Chris asked, skeptically. "There have been some escapes from the Mars prison colony in the past."

"Not for over three hundred years," Garth informed him, and Chris was reminded just how different this time was from the one he'd left. "And, besides, the Manhunters were awarded custody of the Time Trapper by the Intergalactic Council, and they chose the prison colony."

Chris shrugged, admitting defeat. "So, where's he being held?" he asked.

"The Time Institute," Garth said, "on the other side of the city."

Chris grinned, floating upward until he was about twenty feet in the air.

"Race ya," he said, challengingly.

Grinning, Garth activated his flight ring and rocketed up into the air, zipping away quickly.

"Hey!" Chris yelped, flying after him. "That's cheating!"

He raced his friend to the Time Institute, and when they landed together on the roof, they declared it a draw. Garth led him through the maze of hallways until they reached the holding cells in the basement, where the Time Trapper was being led out of his cell. Rokk and Imra, the other Legionnaires who had as much stake in seeing the Time Trapper put away for good, were waiting for them.

Chris watched as the Time Trapper, his arms and legs still secured by heavy manacles, was loaded into the waiting transport pod by several burly prison guards. One of the guards sealed the pod as it closed with a soft hiss and then turned control of the pod over to the team of Manhunters waiting to escort the Time Trapper to his new prison.

Chris and the Legion had just turned to leave when the Time Trapper spoke up from behind them, "Don't I get any last words?"

"You don't deserve them," one of the Manhunters snapped, but Chris had already turned around to face the monster that had ended so many lives.

"What do you have to say?" he demanded, and the Time Trapper smiled, coldly.

"You will rue this day, Superman," he vowed. "These chains will not hold me forever, and when I escape, I will destroy everything you love and hold dear."

Chris glared at the Time Trapper, who simply smirked at him, and then he turned to the Captain of the Manhunter Squad.

"You know, I think we'll go with you," he remarked, ignoring the Time Trapper's threats. "Just to make sure you don't have any trouble with him." He gestured dismissively at the Time Trapper, and the prisoner's eyes blazed with hate.

"The assistance of the Legion is always welcome," the Captain told them. "Even on as menial a job as escort duty."

At the Captain's words, the Time Trapper let out a low, inarticulate growl, struggling futilely against his bonds.

"Don't underestimate him, Captain," Garth spoke up, nodding his head at the Time Trapper. "We lost a lot of good people that way."

"He's been completely restrained," the Captain said, not even bothering to lower his voice as he shot the Time Trapper a contemptuous glare. "What's the worst that could happen?"

Chris didn't consider himself a superstitious man, but looking back later, he felt certain that the Captain's dismissive words had jinxed them from the start. They hadn't even made it halfway to their destination when the Time Trapper broke out of his containment, killing three of the Manhunter guards in the process. And by the time Chris and the other Legionnaires had reached the guards' bodies, too late to do anything to help them, the Time Trapper had already made his escape.

"Damn it!" Chris swore, furiously, as they searched futilely for any minute trace the Time Trapper might have left behind. "I should have been here watching him, myself."

"You couldn't have known this was going to happen," Imra pointed out, sensibly, but Chris just shook his head. He was still too angry with himself for letting his guard down to even consider thinking rationally about the situation.

"I've got him!" Rokk spoke up, suddenly, startling everyone. "Or, a trace of him, anyway."

"Can we use it to track the Time Trapper?" Chris demanded of his teammate.

"Well, sort of," came Rokk's answer, as he looked up from the scanner. "It's not going to be one hundred percent accurate, but-"

"But it's the best we've got, and it'll have to do," Chris finished for him, grimly. "Let's get going, before we lose him, again."

"He might not act right away," Garth said. "He could be biding his time, trying to come up with a plan."

"He's already got a plan," Chris reminded him. "He's going to 'destroy everything I love and hold dear.' That means going after my family."

"We'll stop him before he gets that chance," Imra promised.

"We're locked onto his signal," Rokk announced, breaking into their conversation. "We need to move now, folks."

Chris, Imra, and Garth activated their flight rings and set the tracking devices to the temporal coordinates that Rokk gave them, and a few seconds later, Chris felt the strange tugging sensation that he'd come to associate with traveling through time. It almost felt like flying, only he wasn't the one doing the moving.

**November, 2008**

Chris could never tell how long they were in transit; time travel tended to distort his internal clock, and he hadn't yet found a watch that could survive the trip through time without breaking. And, as was usual when they landed, Chris felt sick to his stomach, and had to take several deep breaths of the cool, evening air to banish the queasy sensation he felt.

"When are we?" Garth asked, looking around.

"November, of the year two thousand and eight," Imra replied, promptly.

"Where did you find a mind to read?" Rokk asked, looking around. "There are no people here."

"There are cars, so there have to be people," Chris pointed out.

"I read this," Imra told her teammates, passing over a piece of paper she'd grabbed off the ground.

"We celebrate the wedding of Chloe Sullivan and Jimmy Olsen on this sixteenth day of November, two thousand and eight," Rokk read off the wedding announcement. "The Time Trapper showed up to screw with your aunt's wedding?" he asked Chris.

"What better time to get all of my family together in one place?" Chris asked, darkly.

"So, we must be at the Kent farm," Garth spoke up, suddenly, as he looked around at their surroundings. "Imagine; we're in the spot where Superman grew up!"

"And Chris," Imra pointed out, and Garth grinned sheepishly at the pointed reminder that the man he was currently gushing over was also the father of his best friend.

"Well, technically, I grew up in Metropolis," Chris replied, absently, taking his own look around the farm. "If this is Chloe and Jimmy's wedding, where are all the people?"

"Inside, maybe," Rokk suggested, gesturing to the house, and Chris started toward it, rapidly, while his teammates hurried to catch up.

"You can't just walk in there!" Imra insisted, when Chris slowly opened the door off the kitchen and stepped inside.

"This is my house," Chris pointed out, and Imra glared at him.

"Not for another few years," she protested.

"I think stopping the Time Trapper is more important than a little breaking and entering," Chris retorted.

"And, really, the door wasn't locked, so it's only entering," Garth spoke up, and Imra turned her withering glare on him.

"You're not helping," she hissed, and Garth just shrugged, nonchalantly.

"I'm with Chris on this one," he told her. "Besides, we might get to meet Clark Kent and Lois Lane!"

"You've met my parents," Chris said, frowning at him, puzzled.

"Yeah, but not before they were famous," Garth insisted, as if that made all the difference. "I mean, your dad isn't even Superman, yet."

Chris just shook his head in exasperation as he continued his prowl through the house.

"Da – Clark?" he called out, catching himself at the last second. "Clark? Lois?"

"I don't think there's anyone in here," Rokk said, as he came down the stairs where he and Imra had finished searching the second story.

"Then, where are they?" Chris asked, puzzled.

As if in answer, they heard a faint scream from outside the house. Chris bolted out of the house before his teammates could even begin to react to the noise, and headed for the barn where the screams had come from. He was moving at super speed, but it didn't feel fast enough, and he was afraid he wasn't going to get to the barn in time. Then, right as he went through the double doors, he slammed into something coming out of the barn.

He caught a brief impression of something huge and black towering over him, and then it felt like a runaway bullet train had hit him in the chest.

Chris went flying backward and hit the ground, hard, digging a long trench in the driveway before he finally managed to stop his headlong flight. He staggered to his feet in time to see some sort of monster headed toward him, and he braced himself for another attack, even as he recognized the monster and realized that his chances of survival were slim at best.

_'My father wasn't afraid to face you,'_ Chris thought, determinedly, _'and neither am I.'_

Doomsday ambled toward him at an almost agonizingly-slow pace, and Chris took the time to further settle himself where he was standing. He took several deep breaths, centering himself and focusing everything he had on the singular threat that loomed before him. Chris knew that he was only likely to get one shot in, and he needed to make it count.

Then, as Doomsday got even closer, Chris took off from where he was standing, and now he was the one who hit Doomsday with the force of a runaway train. Doomsday staggered backward when Chris struck him, and while the monster still seemed disoriented, Chris drew his arm back and slammed his fist into Doomsday's face.

Doomsday's head snapped back from the force of the blow, which would likely have decapitated any other being. Then, Doomsday let out an inhuman snarl of rage, grabbing Chris and hurling him through the air.

Chris landed in the same trench that he'd created the first time, and when he tried to get back on his feet, his legs buckled as a blinding pain shot through his body. He instinctively clutched at his ribs as he fell, and when he pulled his hands away, he was shocked to see blood covering his fingers.

He heard footsteps, and when he jerked his head up he saw Doomsday coming toward him again, but the monster stopped when a voice came from behind it.

"Either finish him or leave him, Doomsday," a woman snapped, irritably, and Chris watched in numb disbelief as Chloe walked over to the monster. "You're as bad as a cat playing with a mouse before he kills it."

"This one's a Kryptonian, too," Doomsday growled.

"Oh, really," Chloe said, and now there was a speculative tone in her voice. "I wonder-"

Whatever she'd been about to say was lost in a high-pitched whining sound that nearly deafened Chris. Doomsday and Chloe reacted as well, both cringing away from the sound, hands over their ears. An instant later, something struck both of them, sending them flying backward, and the resultant flare of light blinded Chris for a few seconds. When his vision had cleared, Doomsday and Chloe were nowhere in sight and his teammates had surrounded him, pulling him quickly to his feet.

"Geez, Chris," Garth burst out, frantically, as Chris leaned heavily on him and Rokk for support in staying upright. "You're hurt!"

"How do you get hurt?" Rokk demanded, incredulously. "What was that thing?"

"That was Doomsday," Chris told them, still trying to wrap his mind around the idea of his aunt working with that monster.

When his teammates loudly expressed their disbelief, Chris shook his head, silencing their protests.

"That was Doomsday," he repeated, firmly.

"Then, if there was anyone in that barn-" Imra said, her voice trailing off, quietly, and Chris stared at her in horror as he remembered where he'd originally been headed.

He started for the barn, but almost immediately his legs tried to buckle underneath him. He caught himself before he hit the ground, and forced himself to take several more steps on shaky legs, not willing to let himself fall. Determinedly, he continued to the barn, his teammates right in step with him, and Chris steeled himself for what they were likely to find.

Then, he found himself almost laughing when they weren't confronted by the massacre he'd been expecting. He'd been expecting nothing less than a bloodbath where Doomsday was concerned, people scattered around the barn like broken dolls. Instead, he found himself facing wailing, screaming people, and the rush of relief nearly knocked him off his feet.

Chris took a quick look around the barn, automatically assessing the damage, and he took in glimpses of the scene: a woman with a makeshift bandage around her leg, a man slumped over against a cracked support beam, seemingly unconscious, and an older man holding his bloodstained hands over the stomach wound of a younger man.

Chris went immediately over to the last pair, knowing that was where he could be the most useful, even as his teammates moved to help the other people in the barn. The older man looked up, briefly, as Chris approached, growling out, "Where's that damn ambulance?"

Then, he really looked at Chris, and his jaw dropped open in shock. Chris knew the man didn't really see him, just the suit, and even covered in blood and dust (or maybe because of it) it was an impressive sight.

"I can get him to the hospital faster than any ambulance," Chris told the man, trying to hide his shock at seeing Jimmy Olsen lying half-dead on the floor of the barn. "I'm not going to hurt him; you have to trust me."

"You're that Red and Blue Blur," the man (his grandfather, Chris realized in amazement) said, his eyes narrowing in recognition. "Why the hell didn't you stop this?"

"I couldn't," Chris answered quietly, and even if it was the truth, it was the hardest thing he'd ever had to say. "But I can still help him."

He nodded at Jimmy, waiting anxiously for Sam Lane's answer, and then the older man grunted out an affirmative as he eased back from Jimmy.

"Take care of him," he growled out. "That boy's family."

Chris only nodded as he scooped the unconscious man into his arms, nearly collapsing as the extra weight added more strain to his injured leg. He forced himself to ignore the pain, and floated straight up into the air though a hole in the roof, likely the spot where Doomsday had entered.

Once his weight was off his leg, Chris felt immediately better, and he soared through the sky to Metropolis General Hospital, which he knew was going to be better equipped to deal with Jimmy's injuries than the Smallville Medical Center. A few short seconds later, he landed in front of the emergency room doors, and when the doors slid open, he strode though, to the utter amazement of the staff and patients inside.

"Sir, can I help you?" one of the nurses asked, staring at him in shock.

"This man needs help," Chris told her, laying Jimmy gently down on an empty gurney, and the woman's shock turned to horror when she saw Jimmy's wounds.

"I need a surgeon here, now!" the nurse yelled, down the hallway, as people jumped to help her. "Sir-"

But Chris had already flown through the doors, and her voice was faint behind him. He headed back to the farm, quickly, stopping when Imra's voice sounded in his head. He knew from recent experience that he wasn't very good at flying while conversing telepathically; flocks of birds had a lot to fear from him when he was distracted.

_'Imra, what's up?'_ he asked, as he hovered.

_'You need to get back here,'_ she told him, her mental voice tight with anxiety.

_'I'm on my way,'_ he reassured her. _'Does someone else need to get to the hospital?'_

_'Just – just get here,'_ Imra said. _'Chris, hurry.'_

Chris zipped through the sky, back to the farm, and landed in the middle of the barn fast enough that he sunk half a foot into the floor. At first, he didn't see what had Imra so upset, but then his gaze fell on the unconscious man leaning against the support beam. Only, the man wasn't unconscious, and he wasn't some random wedding guest, like Chris had first assumed.

He stared in shock at his father, slumped on the floor of the barn, and then almost reluctantly looked down at the woman he was cradling in his arms. For a few seconds, Chris almost couldn't comprehend what he was staring at.

His mother's sightless eyes stared up at him, her broken, bleeding body looking more like a discarded doll than anything once living. As the reality of the situation slowly sunk in, Chris had to literally suppress the animalistic scream that threatened to tear from his throat. He heard a faint whimper coming from somewhere, and when Imra laid a hand on his arm, he realized that the sound had to be coming from him.

Tearing himself away from the gruesome scene, he stumbled to the entrance of the barn, gulping in deep breaths of fresh air as he desperately tried to control the urge to be violently sick.

_'Chris-'_ Imra started, hesitantly, but Chris cut her off, abruptly.

_'Just leave me alone for a second, okay?' _ he asked. _'I – I can't deal with this.'_

_'You are not the only one in pain,'_ Imra told him. _'Kal-el's grief runs deep.'_

_'I know,' _Chris replied. _'But, how could he let this happen? Why didn't he stop this? Why didn't I stop this?'_

_'Chris, you weren't here,' _Imra reminded him. _'We didn't get here in time.'_

Chris whipped his head around at her words, staring at her in dumbfounded shock. Why hadn't he thought of that? If all they needed was time…

Chris slowly closed his hand around his flight ring, turning the ring over and over around his finger as he focused on the exact time he needed to go back to. He'd almost gotten it remembered down to the second when Rokk startled him by grabbing his arm. Even as he turned to demand what Rokk thought he was doing, a slight electrical charge jolted through him, and he whirled around to stare at Garth in disbelief.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice hard with anger.

"Stopping you," Rokk said, firmly. "You know the flight rings aren't supposed to be used like that."

"Do you really think I care about that right now?" Chris growled. "Do you really think that I have any concern for what we're supposed to do?"

"I know you don't," Rokk snapped back. "That's why we're stopping you. You're not thinking straight."

"I'm trying to save her life," Chris told him, determinedly, stabbing a finger back toward where Lois lay. "I'm not going to let her die."

"It's out of our hands, Chris," Garth protested. "You know the rules."

"Screw the rules!" Chris practically yelled, taking a step towards his teammates only to find himself being forced back by Rokk.

Unthinkingly, he raised a fist as he forced himself through the magnetic field, but then he stopped when someone stepped directly in front of him. Clark put a hand on his chest, and Chris instantly obeyed the unspoken command in his father's eyes.

"Knock it off, all of you," Clark snapped, his voice hoarse from crying. "What did you mean, you could save Lois?"

"Time travel," Chris answered, instantly, but Clark was already shaking his head.

"I already used that option," he said, anger and regret in his voice. "I never should have-"

"Not the Fortress," Chris interrupted him, quickly. "Through these."

Even as his teammates glared at him, Chris dropped his flight ring into Clark's outstretched hand, and Clark turned it over in his hand, slowly.

"How does it work?" Clark asked, ignoring the seething going on behind him, and focusing on Chris as the one who would answer his questions.

"You just put it on and think of when you want to go," Chris told him. "It helps if you know the exact time you want to appear in."

"I know it," Clark replied, looking down at the ring, as though transfixed. "I just put it on?"

"We're not allowed to do this!" Rokk burst out, angrily, clearly no longer able to contain himself.

"Maybe we are," Imra spoke up, before Chris could turn on his friend in a fury. When everyone looked at her in surprise, she added, "Clearly, this is due to the Time Trapper's interference. We're allowed to fix whatever problems he causes."

"Then we go back," Chris stated, now that the issue had been settled.

"We still can't do it," Garth said, and when Chris whirled on him, he hastened to add, "We'll never make it in time. We were still traveling when Doomsday attacked."

"Then I'll come with you," Clark spoke up, startling them. "I was here in the barn. I can get to that monster before he hurts anyone, now that I know what's going to happen."

"Then one of us has to stay here," Imra realized. "We only have four flight rings."

"Five," Garth spoke up, sheepishly, digging a ring out of his pocket. "I brought an extra, since I always keep losing the darn things."

"I've never been more grateful for your inability to keep things around," Chris told him, happily, as he accepted the ring Garth held out.

Clark had already slipped Chris's flight ring onto his finger, and he disappeared a second later in a flash of light. Shoving the spare ring onto his own finger, Chris focused on the time before they'd landed, before Doomsday had attacked. The tugging sensation of traveling increased until he felt like he was being pulled apart, and then he landed in the driveway in front of the house, almost overwhelmed by the nausea of time travel.

A crashing sound from around the corner had him sprinting around to the barn, and he saw Clark knock Doomsday halfway across the yard with one blow. The monster roared in fury, and Chris flew towards him as he charged at Clark, hitting Doomsday in the chest and driving him backward, through the fence.

He hit Doomsday hard while the monster was still down, and then in an unsettling sense of déjà vu, he found himself being hurled backward through the air. He hit something as he landed, and rolled over to find that he'd landed on Clark, who'd placed himself in the way to stop his flight.

He and Clark sprang to their feet at the same time, both speeding towards Doomsday to hit the monster as one. They hit Doomsday hard enough to create a crater in the middle of the driveway where they'd landed, and, from the way the monster was lying there, it didn't look like Doomsday was going to get up, again.

Chris stepped back, breathing a sigh of relief. He couldn't believe he'd gone up against Doomsday and survived. Twice, no less. Then again, nothing else had seemed to go right since they'd started out on their escort duty…

Chris almost didn't see the hand that slammed into the side of his face, sending him flying backward. He did, however, have plenty of time to see Doomsday looming over him, speeding toward him. He struggled to get out of the trench he'd created when he landed, when Doomsday suddenly disappeared from his field of view.

Looking up, he saw to his amazement that Clark had grabbed Doomsday and lifted him into the air, flying at least one hundred feet up. The monster was struggling in Clark's grip, but Clark was relentless as he held onto Doomsday, taking them higher and higher into the sky.

Then, just as Chris was wondering what his father was up to, Clark stopped flying and simply dropped like a stone. With Doomsday directly beneath him, he hit the middle of an empty field hard enough to shake the ground all the way over to the house. Chris bolted out to where he had landed, and saw something streak away from the spot at an incredibly high speed.

He reached the middle of the field, and looked down into the deep crater to see Clark climbing to his feet, a slightly dazed look on his face.

"Are you okay?" Chris called down, anxiously.

"Where did that monster go?" Clark asked, as he jumped out of the hole to land beside Chris.

"He took off," Chris told him, and Clark swore, softly.

"He's still out there," he growled, under his breath.

"Not for long," Chris told him, even as he struggled against telling Clark everything about his future battle against Doomsday.

Clark shot him a suspicious look. "Who are you people?" he demanded. "That whole time travel thing worked, so I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I want some answers, now."

Chris jerked his head back toward the barn, taking off into the air a second later with Clark hot on his heels. Clark skidded on the gravel of the driveway for about twenty feet when he landed and then walked back to join them, the soles of his dress shoes smoking slightly.

"Answers," he repeated, insistently. "Who are you people?"

"We are the Legion," Rokk told him, a proud smile gracing his features. "We come from the thirty-first century."

"The thirty-first century," Clark echoed, skeptically, but Garth interrupted him.

"This is such an honor," he gushed, grabbing Clark's hand and pumping it enthusiastically. "You are my biggest hero, seriously."

Clark's eyebrows shot up in disbelief, but he didn't have time to say anything before they were interrupted.

"You're ruining my plans."

Chris turned at the sound of Chloe's voice and saw her strolling out of the barn. Lois was walking in front of her, and Chris couldn't figure out why she was moving so stiffly until he x-rayed her and saw, to his horror, Chloe pressing a knife sharply into Lois's back. Lois had a furious look on her face, and when Clark focused his hearing, he could hear her growling threats to Chloe under her breath.

"I have your friends, Kal-el," Chloe called out, and Chris looked quickly around to see if Chloe was holding anyone else captive. "If you try anything, they both die."

"We destroyed you," Clark snapped, and the look of rage on his face was a match for Lois's. "Jor-el-"

"Jor-el," Chloe echoed, mockingly. "I'm a more advanced computer than that little AI could ever hope to become."

"Brainiac," Chris said, flatly, as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place.

Brainiac looked over at the sound of his voice and stretched Chloe's mouth into a sneer.

"What are you and your little friends supposed to be?" he demanded. "Aren't you a little late for Halloween?"

At his words, Rokk got a grimly determined look on his face and Garth did an almost hilarious double take as he looked automatically down at his dark blue costume. Chris snuck a look at Imra to see her reaction, but the telepath stood as if frozen, her gaze locked on Brainiac and Lois. For a moment, Chris was afraid that Brainiac had done something to her, but then he was startled by the sound of her voice in his head.

_'When she drops, hit Brainiac with everything you've got.'_

_'You can't mean that!' _Chris protested, immediately, knowing that using all of his strength would likely kill Chloe, but then he realized that Imra hadn't just been talking to him.

_'One electromagnetic pulse coming right up,'_ Rokk told her, and Garth echoed his determination a heartbeat later.

Chris looked over at Clark, but from the way his father's gaze had never left Brainiac and Lois, it was clear that he hadn't caught any of the last few seconds' conversation. Briefly, Chris wondered how Clark would react to their attack on his best friend.

But, there was no more time to think about it because Imra suddenly shouted, _'Lois, down!'_ and his mother threw herself forward and to the ground with an almost remarkable speed. Even as Chris raced forward to get her out of the line of fire, something shot past him at an even faster speed, and Chris had to suddenly swerve to keep from getting in the way. A millisecond later, Rokk and Garth's electromagnetic pulse streaked past him to slam into Brainiac, slamming him into the ground, and Chris changed his direction to pin Brainiac down, in case the supercomputer wasn't as disabled as they thought.

Having Brainiac secured, he looked around for Lois, and found her hovering with Clark about twenty feet off the ground, safely in his arms. Chris took a moment to appreciate the sight of his parents safe and unharmed, and then he had to turn his attention back to Brainiac, who'd started to struggle on the ground. Chris levered more of his weight onto his hands, pushing Brainiac more firmly into the ground, but he knew the supercomputer had endowed Chloe's body with his Kryptonian abilities, and he wouldn't be able to hold him for long.

"Whatever you've got planned," Chris snapped, as his teammates came up from behind him, "you better do it now."

"I actually hadn't thought that far," Imra admitted, in a small voice, and Brainiac laughed harshly at her.

"Some heroes you turned out to be," he said, mockingly.

"The only way to destroy Brainiac is to destroy the host," Rokk said, ignoring Brainiac's comment.

"No one's killing anyone," Clark spoke up, startling them.

"Then what do you suggest?" Rokk snapped, glaring up at Clark.

"Can you generate a pulse to fry Brainiac without harming Chloe?" Clark asked, looking over at Garth.

"I – I think," Garth said, hesitantly.

"Seriously, hurry it up!" Chris snapped, as he struggled to keep Brainiac from throwing him off.

Brainiac managed to force him up long enough to get almost halfway off the ground, and then Chloe's head snapped back and her body slumped to the ground. Chris whipped his head around to stare at Lois, who stepped back from them, her hand still clenched in a fist.

"Thanks," he said, quietly.

"That's still not going to last very long," Lois said, "so you still need to hurry."

Whatever she was going to say next was lost in a loud roar, and Chris looked over Lois's shoulder to see an all-too-familiar figure stalking toward them.

"Hold Brainiac!" Chris snapped, grabbing Clark's arm and yanking him forward even as he shot up and bolted past the small group to meet the Time Trapper.

A part of him worried about what he was leaving behind him, but he pushed it away. He had to trust that his teammates and his parents could handle Brainiac; he had another problem to deal with.

Halfway to the Time Trapper, Chris was hit with a burst of energy that sent him spiraling through the air, wildly, and it took him too long to stop his headlong rush through the sky. By the time he'd righted himself, the Time Trapper had almost reached the small group dealing with Brainiac, and with a wordless snarl of rage, Chris streaked down and grabbed him by the shoulders, physically hauling him into the air, away from the group.

The Time Trapper somehow twisted in his grip and Chris felt another burst of energy strike him in the stomach, hard enough to make him drop the Time Trapper. He landed on the ground, breathing hard and holding an arm protectively over his injured stomach, glaring at the Time Trapper, who'd landed several yards away.

"What the hell are you?" he growled, furiously.

"You didn't think I was just sitting back while the Brain Interactive Construct was enacting one part of my plan, did you?" the Time Trapper asked, in a mocking tone. "I was improving myself."

"What does that mean?" Chris demanded, impatiently.

"I am all of me, now," the Time Trapper told him, and Chris felt his blood run cold at the words.

The Time Trapper was probably the only being in the universe capable of crossing parallel dimensions freely, and if he'd done what Chris was afraid of, if he'd merged with even one of his parallel counterparts…

"All of them, actually," the Time Trapper said, as if he'd read Chris's mind. "As many as I could summon to me. I possess their knowledge, their experience, and their power. I am unstoppable."

"No one's unstoppable," Chris snapped back, automatically.

He charged the Time Trapper, again, but was stopped by crackling energy field that formed a ring around the villain several feet wide. The more he pushed at it to force his way through, the more the field resisted. The energy ate at his skin where he touched the field, increasing in intensity until his hands, his arms, and finally his whole body felt like it was on fire. And inside the force field, the Time Trapper just stood there, smirking smugly at him.

Chris redoubled his efforts to get through, even though he was doing little more than exhausting himself fighting against it, but he couldn't just sit back and do nothing. Chris fired off a burst of his heat vision, cursing when it simply slid off the energy field to burn a hole in the ground.

Then, he watched in horror as the Time Trapper flicked out a hand, and the bolt of energy he released went through the energy field to strike Chris in the stomach, driving him back a few feet. Chris's hands immediately went to his stomach and when he pulled them away, they were covered in bright red blood. Just like when he'd fought Doomsday. The disturbing comparison made Chris's blood run cold.

"How does it feel, Superman?" the Time Trapper called out, mockingly. "Knowing that you're going to die without even getting near me?"

"Seems to me like you're too much of a coward to face me on your own," Chris taunted back, refusing to rise to the bait.

The Time Trapper glared at him, letting off another burst of energy. Chris took the hard blow with a soft grunt of pain, forcing himself to keep moving forward. In the distance, he heard the faint scream of a siren.

_'Great,'_ he thought, annoyed. _'Someone called the police, and they're going to blunder straight into this without having any idea what's going on.'_

Chris hit the field a third time, refusing to give any ground even with the Time Trapper firing a continuous volley of energy blasts at him. Muttering curses at the Time Trapper under his breath, he dug his heels into the ground and shoved at the field with his shoulder, slowly forcing his way through. He felt the shield grow stronger, suddenly, and looked up to see that the Time Trapper had shifted the energy around in front of him to keep Chris from getting through.

Chris kept moving, determinedly, and had actually gotten part of the way through when he felt the energy field falter, and the Time Trapper stumbled forward suddenly, propelled off-balance by something from behind him.

He whirled around to confront this new threat, and Lois hit him again with the lead pipe she held in her hands, watching dispassionately as he crumpled to the ground from the force of the second blow.

"Why is it the really powerful ones always have glass jaws?" Lois asked rhetorically.

Chris took a step toward her, opening his mouth to say something, but he couldn't force any words out. Black spots danced in his vision, and he felt himself swaying dangerously as his legs threatened to buckle beneath him. He stumbled forward when he couldn't hold himself upright any longer, and collapsed into Lois's arms.

They fell hard to the ground, Lois shoving herself underneath Chris so that his head and shoulders hit her legs instead of the gravel of the driveway.

"Smallville!" Lois shouted, and her voice sounded far away to Chris's ears. "Smallville, get over here!"

Footsteps got louder, and then there were more people bending over them. Chris could hear them, faintly, but he couldn't force his eyes open far enough to see the anxious looks he knew had to be on their faces.

"Give him here," Clark said, quietly.

Chris felt Clark wrap his arms around his shoulders, hauling him up to slump against the other man's chest. He tried to stand on his own feet, but his legs wouldn't cooperate, and Clark was the only reason he didn't fall back to the ground.

He felt Clark's legs bend, and then his father pushed them off the ground, soaring quickly through the air. The air thinned and Chris's head was soon spinning from the lack of oxygen.

"Hold on," Clark told him, quietly. "We're almost there."

True to his word, a few seconds later, Chris felt the heat of the sun hitting him. Chris felt his pain recede as the sun hit him, and he found it easier to move. Clark drifted them both closer until the heat was almost unbearable for even them, until neither of them could hold their breath against the complete lack of atmosphere.

He then flew them back down to Earth, and once back in the atmosphere, he let go of Chris who fell nearly half a mile before catching himself and hovering in the sky.

"You okay?" Clark asked, flying down to join him.

Chris nodded. "I did not like that," he decided, after a few seconds of silence.

"What, falling?" Clark asked, confused.

"No, getting hurt," Chris answered, sheepishly. "I like my invulnerability. _Really_ like it," he stressed, emphatically.

Clark let out a soft chuckle, nodding in agreement. Then, he sobered up as he looked pointedly at Chris's suit.

"You're wearing the El symbol," he stated flatly. "You're not just some random Kryptonian from the future, are you?"

"It's my family's symbol," Chris hedged, as their conversation quickly veered into dangerous territory.

"Who are you?" Clark asked, insistently, an echo of his earlier demand.

There was no anger in his voice, only curiosity, and Chris sighed in defeat. Imra was going to kill him.

"My name is Christopher Kent," he admitted, quietly. "I'm your son."

Clark's eyes bugged out, comically, and Chris smiled weakly.

"Hi, Dad," he said, and Clark's mouth dropped open in shock.

He looked like he was about to say something, but then he looked suddenly down, his gaze sharpening.

"Lois is calling me," he said, absently.

"Wow," Chris remarked. "You really are attuned to Mom's voice."

He darted away, flying back down to Earth. It took Clark a few seconds to realize that he'd thrown that last bit in there to shock him, and then he yelled an indignant, "Get back here!" after Chris, who laughed as he slowed down to wait for Clark.

They landed in the same field as before, Clark stumbling when his feet hit the ground. He wound up tumbling end over end before he popped back up to his feet, and he shot a suspicious look at Chris, who had pasted his most innocent look on his face to hide his smirk.

"I didn't say anything," he protested, before Clark could accuse him of laughing.

Clark just shook his head in exasperation as he started across the field to the barn. Grinning, Chris hurried to catch up.

"My son," Clark said, after they walked in silence for a few seconds. "You don't look like me. Or Lois," he added, doubtfully, eyeing Chris's blond hair.

Chris just shrugged, knowing any sort of detailed explanation was going to be rendered moot anyway, as soon as Imra found out and erased it from Clark's mind. Catching sight of the police car parked in the driveway, he spun out of the suit and into the jeans and t-shirt he'd been wearing when Garth came to pick him up.

"You're not dressed very convincingly as a wedding guest," Clark told him. "But," he added a second later, "I don't think that'll be a problem."

Chris looked where he indicated and saw John Jones talking quietly to his teammates. A small group of people was huddled nearby, whispering in hushed voices as they stared at John, and as they got closer, Chris recognized the Manhunter Captain and his team.

"Captain," Chris greeted, coolly. "I see the cavalry finally decided to show up."

The Captain gave him a hard look before recognition dawned, as he wasn't used to seeing Chris without the suit. He returned Chris's greeting with a short nod.

"Superman," he returned, his voice clipped. "We had to return to the Time Institute to obtain their help, and now we're here to escort the prisoner-"

"To the Phantom Zone," Chris finished, cutting him off. "I don't care what your extradition order says," he continued, over the Captain's incredulous sputtering. "He goes to the Phantom Zone. He's too dangerous to be held anywhere else."

"The Council will hear of this insolence," the Captain threatened, unwilling to back down in front of his men. Chris just shrugged; he knew he was in the right on this one.

"I'm sure they will also hear of this young man's heroic efforts to subdue such a dangerous criminal, will they not?" a new voice spoke up, and Chris smirked when John's arrival had the Captain and the other Manhunters snapping to rigid attention.

"J'onn J'onnz!" one of the Manhunters whispered excitedly, at the back of the group, but John ignored him in favor of waiting for the Captain's answer.

"They will," the Captain admitted, grudgingly, after nearly a minute of sullen silence.

"I assume you brought a new containment pod?" Chris asked, as his teammates brought the still-unconscious Time Trapper over to the group.

"It's much stronger than the old one," one of the Manhunters spoke up, quickly. "He won't escape from this one."

He showed Chris a small golden crystal, and Chris nodded in approval at the sight of one of the Fortress's crystals.

"Good," Chris said. "Take him straight to the Phantom Zone."

The Captain glared at him, and Chris stared back, unperturbed.

"You won't win in a fight against me, Captain," he said, softly. "Not even against the Council."

One more glare, and the man stepped aside so that Chris could take the crystal. Turning to face the Time Trapper, he ran a finger down the side, activating it and watching as the Time Trapper was sucked inside. He handed the crystal off to the Captain, who took the crystal and disappeared without another word. A second later, his men followed behind.

"So," John said to Clark, into the silence that followed, "who is this young man? These people," he nodded at Chris's teammates, "were mysteriously vague on that issue."

"He's-" Clark began, but that was as far as he got before Imra's eyes widened in surprise and she glared at Chris in annoyance.

She shifted that glare to Clark, who's eyes went out of focus for a second, and then he shook his head in confusion. John had the same look on his face.

"I don't remember what I was talking about," Clark remarked, not seemingly concerned about it.

"Those were Manhunters," John said, staring at the spot where the group had been. "They knew my name. I thought I was the last of my people."

"Join the club," Clark muttered, sarcastically.

Then, he turned at the sound of footsteps, and they watched as Lois walked out of the barn and came over to join them. Clark grabbed her in a hug when she reached them, and she squeaked in surprise as he lifted her off the ground.

"Smallville, what's up?" she asked, even as she returned the hug.

"I'm just glad you're okay," Clark told her, earnestly.

"That monster thing?" Lois asked, knowingly. "I told you I wasn't leaving you. I meant it."

Clark nodded, resting his forehead against Lois's, and Chris smiled at the sight of his parents sharing an intimate moment.

"I made our excuses to everyone inside," Lois explained, when they separated. "I said that Detective Jones had a tip on a story we were investigating, and that's why we had to run out in a hurry."

"Are Chloe and Jimmy mad?" Clark asked.

"It was the reception, not the wedding," Lois told him. "And they understand the lure of a good story. Oddly enough," she continued, giving the Legionnaires a suspicious look, "no one remembers anything that happened. Nothing at all about the huge monster that crashed through the barn."

"This is supposed to be a happy day," Imra replied, when her teammates shot her a questioning look. "It shouldn't be ruined by the memory of something that never even touched them."

"Well, thank you," Lois said, to their surprise. At Clark's confused look, she added, "Chloe and Jimmy deserve to not have to worry about anything, today."

Looking over at Chris, she cocked a finger at him. "I want to talk to you."

"Uh," Chris stammered, but Lois didn't give him a chance to continue.

"Come on," she said, firmly. "We'll be right back," she told Clark, when he looked curiously at her.

She marched over to the house, away from the group, and Chris had no choice but to follow her. When they stopped, she pinned him with a look that had him fidgeting nervously, looking anywhere but her face. He felt like he was ten years old again, and trying to explain how his handprints got on the ceiling.

"Who are you?" Lois asked, when the silence between them had stretched to an uncomfortable level.

"Um," Chris said, again, floored by having to answer the same question from both her and Clark. Especially since he'd never been able to lie to his mother.

"That bright red 'S' on your chest," Lois continued, "it's the same symbol that's on the altar in the Phantom Zone. The one that only Clark or Kara can open. So, who are you?"

"I can't tell you," Chris told her, regretfully, knowing Imra really would kill him for having to erase the same thing twice.

Lois glared at him, but after a minute, she changed her mind to focus on the more important things.

"Are you a danger to Clark?" she demanded.

"No," Chris said, honestly. "No, I have nothing but the greatest respect for both you and Clark. You have to believe that."

"Are you related to Clark?" Lois pressed. The deer-in-the-headlights look must have given him away because she continued, "You must be; you lie just as badly as he does."

A few seconds later, she asked quietly, "Clark and I – do we make it? Are we happy?"

"Yes," Chris told her, emphatically. "Oh, yes. You – you are going to be very happy together. A love that transcends time."

Lois rolled her eyes at his words, even as an embarrassed flush colored her cheeks. She shot a look over at Clark, who turned and smiled at her when he sensed her gaze on him.

"There are even songs about you two," Chris teased, lightly, and Lois punched him in the arm.

"Come on, Future Boy," she ordered. "They're going to wonder what's keeping us."

She spun on her heel and strode briskly back to the group, and Chris hurried to catch up. Clark and John were talking with the Legionnaires, and Garth had to have been telling some sort of story, by the way he was wildly gesturing.

"Hey!" Chris interrupted, suddenly, looking around. "What happened with Brainiac?"

"Right here," Garth told him, and Chris saw that he was balancing a large black orb in his hands, constant currents of energy keeping it aloft in front of him. "Hey, you think I could juggle this?"

"No!" Chris, Rokk, and Imra cried at the same time.

"I'll take that," Rokk continued, gesturing so that the orb floated over to him. "We pulled him out of Chloe with no problem," he told Chris. "She's completely fine."

"What are you going to do with that?" Clark asked, nodding at the orb.

"I think we can put Brainiac to good use," Chris said.

"We need to be going, anyway," Rokk spoke up. "We need to make sure the Time Trapper was transported safely to the Phantom Zone."

"It was an honor meeting you all," Imra said, speaking for them all. Rokk and Garth echoed her sentiment, and Chris just nodded, finding it harder than he thought to say goodbye to his parents.

"Good luck," Clark wished them, and Lois and John echoed it. Nodding goodbye to the group, John went back to his car and drove off.

Clark pulled the flight ring off of his finger and he held it out, but Rokk shook his head.

"Keep it," he said. "You could use it to come visit us in the future, sometime."

"I don't know," Clark hesitated. "I think I might just stick to this time, for now."

"Well, if you change your mind, you can find us in three thousand and nine," Imra told him.

They watched Lois and Clark walk back to the barn, arm in arm, with their heads bent toward each other as they spoke, and Garth grinned.

"Your parents are really cool," he said. "And, look what your dad gave me."

He held out a baseball with the initials CK burned into them, and beamed happily.

"It's going to go in my collection," he said.

"You are such a geek," Chris informed him. Then, as something occurred to him, he turned to Rokk.

"You didn't disable the flight mechanism on that ring, did you?" he asked.

"I thought Lois might want to go flying with Clark," Rokk told him, sheepishly.

"Now who's the geek?" Imra asked, affectionately.

"All right," Chris said, looking around. "I think we can take off, now. No one's watching."

"Think anyone can hear us?" Garth asked.

"Probably not," Chris answered. "Why?"

"Long live the Legion!" Garth cried, and after a moment, his teammates took up the cry. Activating their flight rings, they disappeared in a burst of light.

**August, 2013**

Lois's brow wrinkled as she sniffed the air inside the car, experimentally.

"What is that smell?" she muttered, looking around before her gaze landed on the abashed expression on her husband's face. "You still smell like mud," she informed him, bluntly.

"I was in Paraguay for six hours, dealing with the mudslide caused by that earthquake," Clark said, defensively.

"Yeah, I can tell," Lois told him.

"I took a shower as soon as I got back to the Planet!" Clark protested.

"It didn't work," Lois replied, and Clark sighed in exasperation.

"Would you like me to take another shower when we get to the farm?" he asked.

"If you expect to eat at the same table as Martha and me," Lois told him. "We're not going to have dinner with your mother with you smelling like you've been slogging through a sewer."

"Hey, look," Clark said, suddenly, pointing out of the windshield. "A shooting star."

"Make a wish," Lois told him, reaching over and squeezing his hand.

"Does that angle of descent look wrong to you?" Clark asked, still staring out the window at the speeding comet.

"Angle of descent?" Lois echoed, in disbelief. "I'm not a rocket scientist – hey, I think you're right."

She stopped the Jeep and joined Clark in watching the comet streak through the sky.

"I think it's coming closer," she said, quietly. "It looks like it's going to hit the middle of the field."

"That's Schuster's Field," Clark told her, and Lois raised an eyebrow.

"The same Schuster's Field where your parents found you?" she asked, and Clark nodded, slowly, as her meaning sunk in. They scrambled out of the Jeep and jumped over the fence around the field, walking rapidly through the tall grass.

"It might be absolutely nothing," Clark said, as they were walking.

"A comet hits the same field that you landed in as a baby, that's more than a coincidence," Lois replied. "And it's certainly not absolutely nothing."

"I'm just saying," Clark protested.

When the comet struck the field, tremors shook the earth, and Clark grabbed Lois around the waist to keep her from falling over. And when the comet dug a furrow in the field headed straight for them, he swept them both straight into the air, watching as the blazing object passed directly where they had been standing.

Clark set them down and they ran over to the object where it had finally stopped, and he blew on it, hard, to extinguish the flames covering it. He also turned to do the same to the flames that followed the object's path through the field, and when he turned back, Lois had left his side and was prowling around the object, poking carefully at it.

"Lois, what are you doing?" Clark demanded, hurrying to her side.

"That's no shooting star," Lois told him, a smug note in her voice. "That's a space ship. At least, I think it is."

"Lois, that could be some sort of bomb," Clark protested, but it was futile because Lois was ignoring him and prodding at the sides of the ship.

"Ha!" she declared, triumphantly, when something she did made Kryptonian symbols light up all over the sides of the ship. "What does it say?" she asked, a moment later, frowning at the symbols.

"We send our legacy to the third planet of Sol," Clark read. "May he find a home among the people of Earth."

A sudden hiss cut off the rest of his words, and Clark frowned at Lois, who'd triggered the opening mechanism of the ship.

"Oh, Clark," she gasped, when the lid had opened, and when he walked around to the front, she was just lifting a young child out of the confines of the ship.

As Lois lifted the boy out of the ship, he snuggled trustingly into her embrace and she could practically feel her heart melting at the gesture. She started to shrug out of her coat to cover the boy, but Clark stopped her with a hand on her arm. Her spun into his suit and detached the cape, handing it to her. She bundled the boy in the bright red fabric and he blinked up at her before lying back down against her chest and promptly falling asleep.

"What do we do now?" Lois asked, quietly, trying not to wake the boy up.

"Well," Clark said, spinning back into his work clothes and slipping his glasses back on his face, "I think the first thing we should do is to take him to Metropolis General and have Dr. Hamilton look him over. Make sure he's not sick."

"And then what?" Lois asked. "We can't turn him over to any authorities; they'd lock him up and study him for the rest of his natural life."

"So we won't," Clark told her, and when she raised an eyebrow at him, he added, "We have been talking about starting a family."

"Yeah, but not like this!" Lois protested, after she had sputtered in shock for several seconds. "We don't even know that we'd make good parents."

"No one does, when they first start out," Clark pointed out, reasonably. "Come on, Lois. You're going to tell me that you could just give him to someone else and walk away?"

Lois looked down at the little boy who'd already wormed his way into hear heart in the space of a few minutes, and she shook her head slowly even as she tightened her arms protectively around the child.

"No," she admitted quietly after a minute. "No, I couldn't give him up."

Clark grinned at her, lifting the small ship into his arms as they headed back to the car. He stowed the ship in the back of the Jeep, covering it with a blanket to hide it from prying eyes, and then he went around to the front, where Lois had tossed the car keys on the driver's seat while she got herself and the boy settled in the passenger's seat.

"We need to pick up a car seat on the way home," Lois told him, as he reached over to help her wrestle her seatbelt into place.

"What are we going to tell everyone?" she asked, a few minutes later as they drove down the road. "What are we going to tell Martha?"

"Mom's going to love it," Clark assured her confidently. "She's going to think he's great. As for everyone else, we'll figure something out. Maybe Oliver can fake some adoption papers for us."

"What about his name?" Lois asked. "We can't just call him Lost Little Boy."

"I've been thinking about that," Clark told her, smiling. "What do you think about Chris?"


	6. The Real Thing

**Author's Note: **AU of Bulletproof/Power/Requiem. I couldn't stomach doing the last two stories separately.

**The Real Thing**

It had been almost a week since Chloe and Jimmy's wedding, and Oliver had yet to hear a peep out of either Lois or Clark. He knew they were both busy with their jobs, and with taking care of the fallout of the Doomsday attack on the wedding so that the happy couple didn't have to, but they could have at least given him a phone call to tell him that they were all right. They were even ignoring his attempts to call them.

Enough, Oliver decided, was enough.

He went out to the Kent farm and found Clark's truck still parked in the driveway, not that that meant anything where Clark was concerned. Oliver got out of his car and was almost bowled over by Clark's big golden retriever, who jumped on him, eagerly, licking his face and sniffing at his pockets.

"Good dog," Oliver said, uneasily, trying to push the dog away. The dog continued nosing around his pockets, and Oliver backed up until he was trapped against the side of his car.

"Clark?" he called out, not wanting to admit that he'd been cornered by the dog, but seeing no other choice in the matter. "Clark, come get your dog!"

"He thinks you have treats."

Oliver turned his head at the sound of a woman's voice, and watched Lana Lang stroll casually across the driveway like she owned the place.

"Shelly, get away from him," she scolded, sternly.

The dog gave her a disgusted look before darting away from the hand she was reaching for his collar with and jumping into the back seat of Oliver's convertible, where he lay down on the floor and refused to budge.

"Shelly!" Lana snapped, reaching out to grab the dog, again, but Oliver stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"I think his name is Shelby, actually," he corrected her, and the dog wagged his tail, happily.

"Whatever," Lana shrugged, dismissively. "He knows better than this. Clark's supposed to have him trained."

"He's fine where he is," Oliver told her, firmly.

"What about your car?" Lana asked. "That looks like expensive leather for your seats."

"They'll be fine," Oliver said. "Shelby's a good dog."

Lana shot him a disbelieving look. "Did you want something?" she finally asked.

"I wanted to talk to Clark," he said, resisting the urge to demand the same thing from her. "Is he around?"

"Clark's not here right now," Lana told him. "But, I'd be happy to tell him that you stopped by, if you want."

She shot him a bright, false smile, a clear dismissal, and Oliver had a sudden sympathy for Lois and Clark, if they'd been dealing with her.

"Actually, I think I'll wait for Clark, if you don't mind."

"I think Clark might-" Lana started, and Oliver cut her off with a predatory smile of his own.

"Clark doesn't mind me dropping over," he told her, and he walked off, leaving Lana sputtering in near-silent outrage behind him.

He'd almost reached the barn when he heard the sound of a motor behind him, and he turned around to see Lois's Jeep pulling into the driveway and slamming to a stop beside Clark's truck. Lois jumped out of the driver's seat with Clark following more slowly, presumably after he'd peeled his fingers off of the dashboard.

"You drive like a maniac," Clark told her, as he shut his door behind him.

"I do not," Lois argued.

"I'm going to have to agree with Clark on that one," Oliver called out, and Lois glared at him.

"Sure, take his side," she replied, sarcastically.

At the sound of her voice, Shelby jumped out of Oliver's car and raced across the driveway to jump on Lois's chest. Lois let out a huff of breath at the impact but ruffled the fur behind the dog's ears as he licked her chin.

"What was Shelby doing in your car?" Clark asked, as Oliver walked over to join them.

"He wouldn't listen," Lana informed him, and Clark's eyebrows flew up in shock as she walked over to the group.

"You came back," he said, his voice toneless.

"Did you really think that I wouldn't?" Lana asked him.

"Well, that DVD sure left that impression," Lois broke in, stepping slightly in front of Clark and fixing Lana with a cold stare.

"I'd like to speak to you," Lana told Clark, ignoring Lois and Oliver. "In private," she added, pointedly, and Lois smirked.

"I'm going to go unload the car," she told Clark, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before walking back across the driveway. "Ollie, you want to help me?"

"What was that?" he heard Lana hiss, furiously, and Lois's smirk grew bigger.

"So, what are you doing?" Oliver asked, curiously, as he helped Lois start to unload several boxes from the back of her Jeep.

"Moving in," Lois replied, as she slung a duffel bag over her shoulders and pulled a suitcase out of the backseat.

"Oh, really?" Oliver remarked, nonchalantly, and Lois fidgeted slightly under his direct gaze.

"Well, I can't keep living at the Talon with the happy couple," she said, defensively. "That apartment is crowded enough with two people, let alone two and a third wheel, so I figured I should start looking for my own place. And Clark offered to let me stay in his old room while I'm looking for a new place."

"There's more to it than that, isn't there?" Oliver asked, shrewdly.

"Clark and I started talking," Lois admitted, slowly, and Oliver perked up in interest. "He can't live on the farm, forever, and someday Mrs. Kent is going to retire from the Senate and she's going to want to move back to the farm, and we both work in Metropolis, which is such a long drive from Smallville, and so he's thinking about looking for his own place, too."

"And?" Oliver prompted, insistently, when Lois fell silent.

"And somehow looking for an apartment for me became looking for an apartment for us," Lois finished, in a rush.

"You and Clark are going apartment hunting, together," Oliver said, grinning.

"You make it sound like we're doing something wrong," Lois grumbled.

"Oh, no," Oliver said, hastily. "In fact, I wholeheartedly approve. I'm just wondering when you're going to take the next step."

"We're already talking about moving in together," Lois reminded him, but Oliver shook his head.

"You're moving in together," he repeated. "You're crazy in love with each other – yes, it's that obvious," he added, when Lois shot him a skeptical look. "You're going to tell me that happily ever after hasn't entered the conversation?"

"I don't think we're ready for happily ever after," Lois said, quietly, and Oliver sighed, heavily.

"Do we have to go over how perfect you two are for each other, again?" he asked, rhetorically. Lois just glared and shoved a box into his arms.

Then, their unloading was interrupted by Lana's shrill voice rising in anger, only for her to lower it down just as quickly. Oliver stopped what he was doing in time to see Clark scowl and say something abrupt in response to Lana stabbing her finger in Lois's direction. Then, Lana growled something under her breath and, stalked away in a huff, getting in her fancy, expensive car parked at the out edge of the driveway and peeling off in a cloud of dust.

"Well, that went well," Clark muttered, as Lois walked over to where he stood.

"What did she want?" Lois asked, looking up at Clark.

"She wanted a place to stay while she was in town on business," Clark answered. "I told her no. Told her I had all the houseguests I could handle."

"Are you calling me difficult?" Lois asked, arching an eyebrow.

Clark, in a move Oliver thought to be an incredibly intelligent decision, didn't answer. Instead, he bent down and kissed Lois, long and slow until Oliver was clearing his throat, loudly, to get them to knock it off.

"Nicely avoided," Lois teased, gently, as they parted.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

Later that night, Lois and Clark found themselves at the Daily Planet, hunched over their respective desks, waiting on Detective Jones who insisted he had something they needed to see.

"Who was that?" Lois asked, as Clark snapped his cell phone shut and stowed it away in his pocket.

"John Jones," Clark told her. "He's got something he needs to look into and he's going to be running a little late."

"Has another cop been shot?" Lois asked, quietly, but Clark shrugged.

"He didn't say," he replied. "Just that he was going to be late."

"You don't think Jones is going after this cop killer by himself, do you?" Lois asked, a few minutes later as she looked up from her computer.

"I hope not," Clark said, fervently. "He's not invulnerable, anymore. He can get hurt just like any of those other cops."

He turned his attention back to the scattered notes he and Lois were trying to cobble together into a story, but after a few minutes, he dropped his stack of papers back onto his desk and stood up, shoving his chair back across the floor.

"I'm going to go look for him," he announced, and Lois nodded, unsurprised at his declaration.

She began pulling her coat on as she stepped away from her own desk, and Clark looked at her, skeptically.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I'm coming with you," Lois told him.

"Lois," Clark started to protest, but she shook her head, cutting him off.

"Smallville, we could have this argument and waste valuable time that we could spend looking for Jones, and I'll still wind up coming with you, or we could skip all the fuss and just leave now."

Clark sighed, admitting defeat, and they headed up the elevator together to the roof. Lois went over to the edge, and then looked at Clark, who had hesitated with an uncertain look on his face.

"I just don't want you to get hurt," he tried again. "Lois, with that cop killer on the loose, you'd be safer here at the Planet."

"You've known me how long, now?" Lois asked, rhetorically. "What in our time together makes you think I'm going to stay here and play it safe?"

Clark just shook his head in exasperation as he swept Lois up into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and once she was secure, he pushed off the roof, floating up into the night sky.

"You know," Lois said conversationally as they flew, with Clark keeping an ear out for the sound of Jones's voice, "you should really think about a costume or something."

"Like what?" Clark asked, skeptically. "My very own Green Arrow get-up?"

"Maybe nothing that extreme," Lois told him. "Although, you looked good that last time you wore skintight leather."

Clark shot her an incredulous look and Lois pasted her most innocent smile on her face.

"Why can't I just keep going on like I have been?" he wanted to know.

"Do you really want to be known as the Red-Blue-Blur for the rest of your life?" Lois asked.

"So what do you suggest?" Clark asked, curiously.

"I don't know," Lois said, thoughtfully. "Give me some time to think about it."

"Am I going to regret this?" Clark asked, but then his attention was caught by the sound of a police siren in the street below.

Listening closer, he heard a faint, "Officer down, requesting backup," and with a vivid curse, dove for the ground, landing hard enough to put a pothole in the middle of the street. Lois jumped out of his arms and bolted over to where John lay slumped against the side of his car, blood staining the front of his shirt, turning the cream fabric a deep rust color.

Clark took a quick scan of the street but he couldn't see anyone running away from the scene of the crime. Likely, whoever had shot John was long gone by that point. He heard Lois's quiet murmur behind him, and when he turned around, she'd just clicked off the radio. Her jacket was bunched over the wound in John's chest, with her free hand applying pressure to stop the bleeding.

"I told the police that the Red-Blue-Blur was going to be taking Detective Jones to the hospital," she said, meeting his eyes, her calm tone tamping down the wild fear that had Clark's heart racing at the sight of his friend dying.

Clark nodded, still unable to say a word as he cradled John in his arms and stood, launching himself into the sky. He soared through the air as fast as he dared, all the while fearing that it wouldn't be fast enough, and soon he was landing at the hospital. Speeding inside, he placed John directly on the front desk, his badge resting in the middle of his chest, and sped back out the door, hearing the startled cries of the hospital staff behind him.

He landed back in the dark street where Lois was waiting, startling her as he landed, but she recovered quickly to give him a hard hug.

"He was covered in blood," Clark said, softly, his voice shaking as he buried his face in Lois's shoulder. "He was barely breathing when I got him to the hospital."

"Jones is going to be fine," Lois said, firmly, still holding him.

"I just-" Clark broke off, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "I just got you back, after – I don't think I could handle it if John died."

The wail of a siren cut off whatever Lois was going to say, and then a squad car pulled up beside them. A pair of uniformed officers climbed out, and the older man nodded to Lois with a curt, "Lane."

"Marks," Lois returned. "New partner?"

"Dan Turpin," the younger man introduced himself, holding out a hand which Clark shook. "You want to tell us what went down, here?"

"Not much to tell," Lois answered, squeezing Clark's hand, gently. "We were supposed to meet Detective Jones for a story we were working on, but when we got here, we found him on the ground, shot."

"You said that the Red-Blue-Blur was taking Jones to the hospital?" Marks asked, and Clark nodded.

"He heard Jones radio for help," he said, his voice rough. "He came down and said that he was taking him to Metropolis General."

"I'm wondering why he didn't get here faster," Turpin remarked, idly. "He's so fast cameras can't catch him, but he can't stop a good cop from being shot?"

"He can't be everywhere at once," Lois snapped, her words as much for Clark as for Turpin.

"Danny-boy's new to Metropolis," Marks spoke up, cutting off the fight he could sense brewing. "He's never seen the likes of the Red-Blue-Blur or Green Arrow, before." Turning to Turpin, he added, "It's a real kick in the pants, sometimes, to find our resident super-humans are just as human as the rest of us."

"Did you have any other questions, Officer?" Clark asked. "I'd like to go check on Detective Jones, if we're done here."

"We're done here," Marks said, sympathetically. "We'll call you, Lane, if we have any more questions."

Lois nodded, and she and Clark watched as Marks drove his car away, and Turpin drove Jones's. Then, wordlessly, Lois wound her arms around Clark's neck, jumping up into his arms as he flew up into the sky. They landed at the hospital after a few minutes, and Clark went immediately over to the nurses' station, rapping impatiently on the plexi-glass divider.

"Detective John Jones?" he asked, when the nurse looked up at him.

"Are you family?" she asked.

"Clark's his nephew," Lois lied smoothly, stepping up beside Clark and wrapping her hand around his arm.

"By marriage," Clark added, when the nurse raised a skeptical eyebrow in his direction.

"Detective Jones is still in surgery," the nurse told them, after a moment at her computer. "If you'd like to wait in the waiting area, the doctor will be out with you as soon as he can be."

"Thank you," Clark told the woman, and he and Lois went to the indicated area, sinking down in the hard plastic chairs.

For the next several hours they alternated between sitting and pacing, with Clark doing most of the latter. Clark called Oliver and the rest of the Justice League to fill them in on the situation, and Oliver made arrangements for a doctor he had on retainer to stop by the hospital and check on John. Around midnight, Lois went for a sandwich run down to the corner deli and by the time she came back, a doctor in surgical scrubs was sitting in the waiting area talking to Clark.

"-next forty-eight hours will be very critical," the doctor was saying, as Lois walked up, and Clark nodded, gravely.

"Can we see him?" he asked, quietly.

"For a few minutes," the doctor answered. "I will caution you, it may be hard for you to see your uncle in the condition he's in."

"He's alive," Lois stated. "That's all that's important, right now."

The doctor led them to a small, private room up on the third floor, and left them alone with John after again warning them about what they were going to see when they entered the room. Lois would never admit it out loud, but the doctor's cautionary words were starting to make her nervous and she'd never seen Clark look so scared, before. She would do anything to erase the chalky-white pallor of his skin.

John was lying in the large hospital bed with all sorts of tubes and wires hooked up to him and leading to a multitude of machines. He looked small and fragile, and beside her, Clark sucked in a sharp breath, his hand tightening over Lois's fingers.

After a moment, he left Lois's side to sink into the chair beside John's bed, curling his hand over the other man's, protectively.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, so quiet that Lois barely heard him. "I should have been there. You never should have gotten hurt."

"Even you can't be everywhere," Lois repeated her earlier words. "You can't save everyone."

"But I should have saved him!" Clark insisted. "John's not just some random stranger on the street, he was my father's closest friend. He's been there whenever I needed him.

"He's family," Lois stated.

Clark shot her a startled look, and Lois smiled at him.

"I've seen the two of you together often enough to see that he's the closest thing to a father you've had since your dad died," she said.

A light knock on the door drew their attention, and a young nurse poked her head into the room.

"Mr. and Mrs. Kent? I'm afraid your visiting time is over," she said, apologetically.

Clark would have expected Lois to correct the woman on the 'Mrs. Kent' issue, but Lois surprised him by not saying a word, just gathering her bloody jacket into her arms and waiting for Clark.

"I'm going to find who did this," Clark whispered, giving John's hand one last squeeze. "I promise."

As he and Lois were heading out of the hospital, Clark turned to Lois with a tight smile on his face.

"Well, Mrs. Kent, what should we do, now?"

"Oh, knock it off," Lois scolded him, elbowing him gently. "It's just easier to check on Detective Jones if the hospital thinks that I'm family, too."

"I think we should head to the Planet," Clark said, answering his own question. "If we hurry, we can just get this story into the morning edition."

"I'll call Marks and see if he and Turpin have any leads on the case," Lois said. Seeing the forlorn look on Clark's face, she added, "We're going to find this guy, and he's going to pay for what he did."

"Before he goes after another cop?" Clark asked, darkly.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

Clark looked up, startled, as a cup of coffee landed on his desk in front of his computer, and he looked up to see Lois with her own cup in her hands.

"That's got to be, what, your fourth cup since we got here?" he teased, taking a healthy swallow from his cup.

"Fifth, but who's counting?" Lois responded, dropping down into her chair. "You know, I love my work, but somehow it never enters the equation when I think about pulling all-nighters with my boyfriend."

"We've been here all night?" Clark asked, surprised, as he looked over at the windows where sunlight was streaming in.

"Earth to Smallville," Lois said. "It's seven in the morning."

"We have been here all night," Clark said, and Lois rolled her eyes at him.

"Boy, you two look like crap," a new voice spoke up, and they looked up to see Ron Troupe standing nearby. "Big story?"

"That cop killer," Lois told him. "He went after a friend of ours last night."

"Oh, god, I'm so sorry," Troupe said, quickly. "Is he-"

"He's in the hospital," Clark finished. "They don't know if he's going to make it."

"I'm so sorry," Troupe repeated, and he stood in awkward silence until someone across the bullpen bellowed his name.

Clark turned back to his computer at a quiet beeping sound, and watched as a police-band alert flashed up on his monitor.

"I've got to go," he said, quickly, grabbing his duffel bag out from under his desk. "A couple of cops are calling for backup down in Suicide Slum."

Lois nodded and grabbed her recorder off her desk, earning a look from Clark.

"Do we really need to have this conversation over again?" she asked, before he could say anything. "One way or another, I'm going down there to get that story."

Clark sighed, heavily, and followed Lois out of the bullpen as she started walking briskly away.

"I'll drop you off a block away," he conceded with a grumble.

He and Lois darted up the stairs, with Clark making a quick stop at the phone booth in the corner to spin into his red and blue clothes. Outside, they ducked into a deserted side street and Clark scooped Lois up into his arms before shooting up into the air.

They landed at the source of the police commotion a minute later, and contrary to his earlier declaration, Clark left Lois on the street right near the police cruisers before flying up to either talk to or catch the jumper standing framed in a tenth-story window.

Right before Clark reached him, the man started to tip forward, arms wind-milling wildly, and Clark shot forward to catch him. But, before he could catch the man, he jerked backward like someone had grabbed him from behind, and Clark caught a flash of black zipping out of the room almost too fast for him to see.

Darting forward to grab the man and keep him from trying his jump a second time, Clark sped him down to the ground floor of the building and out onto the street, keeping an eye out for the black flash the whole time. He deposited the man at the feet of the police who were still staring up at the building in confusion, and then came to a stop beside Lois, who'd drifted to the back of the crowd.

"Nice catch," Lois told him, smiling, but Clark shook his head.

"I didn't do it," he insisted, and she looked at him in surprise. "I brought him downstairs, but there was someone else in the room who pulled him away from the window. Someone who's faster than me."

"Your friend, Bart?" Lois asked, in an undertone. "No," she added, a second later, answering her own question. "If it was Speedy Gonzales, he'd be down here bugging me."

"It wasn't Bart," Clark confirmed. "He'd have waited if he'd seen me."

"So, there's someone else in town who can run faster than the speed of sound?" Lois asked.

"Looks like I'm not the only hero in town," Clark told her.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXX**

The rest of the day, Clark spent alternating between being at the Daily Planet and being out on the streets, responding to emergencies. And for a majority of those emergencies, the mysterious black blur beat him to the scene, pulling unconscious victims out of an apartment fire, moving a stalled car off of the train tracks, apprehending a mugger down in Suicide Slum.

Each time Clark got to the scene, he was just in time enough to see the blur disappearing out of the corner of his eye; he had yet to be in time to actually see whoever it was.

"I feel like I'm being taunted," Clark grumbled into his cell phone, as he stopped at a local deli to grab himself and Lois some sandwiches for lunch.

"Maybe you're being challenged?" Lois suggested. "You know, 'This town's not big enough for two superheroes'."

"Then why not confront me directly?" Clark asked, confused. "Why would this person keep hiding if they are trying to challenge me?"

"Why hide at all?" Lois countered, rhetorically.

"And how are they beating me to practically every accident?" Clark ranted, changing topics. "Whoever this is, they're fast, but they can't be omniscient, can they?"

"Maybe they're tapped into the nine-one-one system like you are," Lois suggested.

"You just gave me a great idea," Clark told her.

"Just don't squash my sandwich," Lois said, and Clark heard the underlying 'be careful' in her voice.

"See you back at the Planet," Clark said, and then he clicked off his phone before dialing nine-one-one a few seconds later.

"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?" the operator asked, as soon as the line connected.

"I'm down in Suicide Slum," Clark told the operator, even as he ran down to the area of the city in question. "Someone broke into my car and ripped my stereo out. They slashed my tires, my seats, my car's a mess."

"All right, sir," the operator said. "I'm going to send a patrol car out to your location. Please don't-"

The woman's voice cut off abruptly as the line went dead, and as Clark stared down at his phone in confusion, he heard a quiet voice say, "Sir, you've been robbed?"

He looked up in shock to see Lana staring at him, and she started in surprise when she recognized him.

"Clark, you tricked me," she said, her voice playfully accusing. "I wouldn't have expected that from you."

"You're the one who's been zipping around town," Clark said, slowly, measuring his words, carefully. "Mind telling me how you've been doing that?"

"That's my secret," Lana told him, suddenly serious, and Clark wondered if she was struck by the irony of all the times she'd accused him of keeping secrets from her.

"Lana, why did you come back here?" Clark asked her, but there was no time to answer when the sound of police sirens filled the air.

Grabbing Lana's arm, Clark pushed off the ground, launching them into the air and landing on the roof of a nearby building. He looked down at the arriving patrol car and watched as a pair of officers got out and prowled around the alleyway.

"You're the one who broke off the call with nine-one-one," Clark said, turning back to Lana. "Lois was right; you have been monitoring the system."

"Well, it's not like anyone needed the police once I was there," Lana bragged, with no small amount of arrogance in her voice.

"And what if the situation had been something you couldn't handle?" Clark demanded. "People could have gotten hurt, Lana."

"Everything went fine," Lana said, dismissively. "I'm invulnerable, Clark. I can't get hurt."

"And what about the people you were rescuing?" Clark countered. "They could have been hurt."

Lana just rolled her eyes at him, and Clark felt a surge of anger at her attitude.

"Why did you come back here?" he asked, repeating his earlier question. "There's nothing left for you in Smallville."

"There's you," Lana told him, and Clark's eyes widened in surprise.

"Excuse me?" he said, faintly, and Lana smiled at him.

"Clark, I've never stopped loving you," she said.

"Funny, but I didn't really get that impression seven months ago," Clark said, sarcastically.

"This is our chance, Clark; we can finally be together," Lana wheedled, tears coming to her eyes when Clark shook his head.

"We're over, Lana," he told her, firmly. "We've been over since the day you walked out, leaving me with nothing more than a DVD."

"I told you why I had to do that!" Lana told him, angrily, as she swiped at the tears in her eyes. "Back when we were talking on the farm, I explained everything to you."

"Yeah," Clark said, flatly. "Lex made you break up with me."

"I didn't have a choice," Lana continued, coming closer and placing a hand on his arm. "Lex said that he'd hurt you if I didn't do what he wanted."

Clark shook his head, tearing out of Lana's grasp to pace across the length of the rooftop.

"Lex is gone, now," Lana told him, earnestly. "Clark, we finally have a chance to have the life we've always wanted."

"Lana, I'm with Lois, now, and I'm happier than I've ever been," Clark said. "I've found the life I've always been looking for."

"Lois," Lana repeated, spitting out the other woman's name like it was a bad word. "What does Lois have that I don't?"

"Lana, this isn't a competition," Clark snapped. "I love Lois. That's all you need to know."

"There's nothing I can say to change your mind?" Lana asked, and Clark shook his head.

"We're over," he repeated, firmly.

"Well, if you and Lois really are such a happy couple, then I guess there's no reason for me to stick around here, is there?" Lana remarked, and Clark frowned, slightly, at the suspicious tone in her voice.

"If you're going to stay around town, I'm going to be keeping an eye on you," he said, giving her a hard look. "Otherwise, I hope you have a good life, Lana."

He launched himself into the air, leaving her behind to be nothing more than a speck on the rooftop. When he heard a siren in the distance, he headed toward the sound, putting all thoughts of Lana completely out of his head.

Nearly fifteen minutes later, he walked into the bullpen and over to his desk, dropping Lois's sandwich on her desk as he passed her. Lois grunted out a wordless thanks, grabbing the sandwich and taking a huge bite, following it up with a gulp of what was probably cold and bitter coffee.

"I found out who's been speeding around Metropolis," Clark said, as he sat down heavily in his chair.

"Oh, yeah?" Lois asked, looking up from her computer screen. "So, who's your competition in the hero department?"

"It's Lana," Clark told her, still trying to work out the implications of Lana with superpowers.

"Lana who?" Lois asked, automatically, even as she already knew the answer.

"Lana Lang," Clark said.

"But, how?" Lois asked, confused.

"I don't know!" Clark cried, frustrated. "She's catching bullets bare-handed and I can't figure out how she's doing it."

"A meteor infection?" Lois hazarded a guess, but Clark shook his head.

"One that shows up after she's left Smallville and all of the meteors?" he asked, keeping his voice down so that their coworkers wouldn't hear him.

"Maybe she's been possessed?" Lois suggested.

"Again?" Clark muttered, sarcastically, and Lois swallowed the laugh that threatened to escape.

"When I was talking to Lana," Clark continued, changing the subject, "I didn't see even a hint of the girl I'd fallen in love with."

"People change," Lois told him, shrugging.

"This wasn't just a sudden thing," Clark said, sounding suddenly tired. "She's been like this for a while, now. I just started seeing it, now."

"You were in love," Lois reminded him. "Even after Lana started changing, you were still in love with the girl she'd been. There's a reason they say love is blind, you know."

Clark started to say something, but broke off abruptly, head cocked to the side as he listened to something only he could hear.

"Sirens," he said, absently, and a moment later, an alert popped up on his computer screen.

"What is this, the criminals having a field day?" Lois demanded.

"They've gotten cockier since that cop killer started taking out cops in broad daylight," Clark said, darkly.

"You be careful," Lois told him, as he stood up to leave. "We don't know what kind of ammo this guy has, and I don't want to lose you."

"I'll be fine," Clark assured her, bending down to brush a soft kiss against her cheek.

Then he dashed out of the bullpen, leaving a gust of wind in his wake that had people throughout the room grabbing for papers as they flew off desks.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

Clark had barely been gone fifteen minutes when Lois's phone rang, loudly, and she snatched it up with a quick, "Lois Lane."

"Ms. Lane?" The speaker on the other end was a man with a nervous tremor in his voice.

"Can I help you?" Lois prompted, when the man didn't seem inclined to say anything further.

"I need to meet with you," the man told her, quickly, sounding like he was whispering. "My name is Dr. Merrick Walters, and I have information on how Detective John Jones was shot."

Lois listened to the man in fascination for several minutes, and then hung up abruptly, grabbing her coat and sprinting out to her car. On the way, she pulled her cell phone out and dialed Clark's number.

"You've reached Clark Kent. Leave a message and I'll get back to you."

"Hey, Smallville, it's me," Lois said, after Clark's cell phone beeped. "I got an interesting phone call from a Dr. Merrick Walters. He says he works for LexLabs, and he wants to talk to us about some project called Prometheus. He says it's important, and that it's about John. He wants to meet us at the old warehouse district, so I'm headed over there, now."

Clicking off her phone, Lois stowed it away in her purse and got into her car, starting the engine. She pulled out into traffic and started down the street, only to be stopped cold at a traffic jam twenty minutes into her trip.

"Come on," Lois complained, laying on her horn, impatiently. "Get a move on!"

A knock on her window startled her, and she looked over to see Clark standing outside the car, waiting patiently to be let in. Lois hit the unlock button and Clark climbed into the passenger seat, his red and blue get-up changed for the charcoal-gray suit that he'd worn to work last night.

"You called and said we had a meeting?" Clark asked.

"I kind of thought you'd meet me there," Lois told him.

"Where's the fun in that?" Clark teased. "So, where are we going?"

"According to this Walters guy, he's got information on why John was shot," Lois told him.

"Yeah, you said that in your message," Clark said.

"He didn't give me much else to go on," Lois replied. "I think he's afraid of his bosses catching him squealing on them."

"If that's what he's doing," Clark said.

"What else could it be?" Lois asked. "The guy wants to meet us in secret in the old warehouse district; chances are he's trying to hide something from somebody."

Traffic started moving again, then, and Lois turned her attention back to driving. Nearly fifteen minutes later, they reached their destination, and Clark got out of the car, looking around cautiously as Lois locked her doors.

"Where's this guy supposed to be?" Clark asked.

"Thirty-one eighty-six," Lois said, referencing the building number she'd written on a scrap of paper.

"Down this way," Clark said, checking out the numbers of some nearby buildings.

They reached the building in question, and found an older man pacing nervously outside, biting his nails and looking at his watch every few seconds.

"Dr. Walters?" Lois questioned, and the man jerked in surprise, staring at Lois with wide, shocked eyes.

"I'm Clark Kent, this is Lois Lane," Clark introduced them to the man. "You called my partner about Detective Jones's shooting?"

"Right, right," the man muttered. "Everything's in here."

He hauled at the heavy door, struggling until Clark stepped up and pulled the door open, smoothly, sunlight highlighting the dark interior of the building. Clark and Lois followed Walters into the building, and the man flicked on a light switch, the bright fluorescent lighting chasing away the rest of the shadows.

"This," Walters said, gesturing, "is Project Prometheus. Mr. Luthor commissioned the project after the failure of Project Ares. It was less ambitious than its precursor."

Clark stared at the computer screens that lined the walls but he couldn't comprehend what he was looking at. Beside him, though, Lois had perked up in interest.

"These are specs for military armor," she said, and Walters nodded in confirmation.

"Standard-issue body armor that's been augmented for use by civilian police," he said, a note of pride in his voice. "We coated the armor with an ultra-light, ultra-strong micro-fiber film. It stiffens upon impact, even with high-velocity projectiles, and spreads the force of the impact over the wearer's body. Most of it was my work."

"So, it's a Kevlar body suit," Clark hazarded a guess, and Walters scowled at what he obviously considered to be a gross simplification.

"If you must put it that way, then yes," Walters said, annoyance creeping into his tone. "It was an offshoot of Project Aries, taking off where Aries failed."

"This was some sort of government project?" Lois asked, but Walters shook his head.

"It was funded by the city," Walters told her. "The cop that was shot, Detective Jones? His precinct was supposed to receive Prometheus armor all their officers."

"Then how did he get shot?" Clark demanded.

Walters opened his mouth to answer, but Lois beat him to the punch.

"Sabotage," she stated, and this time Walters' glare was directed at her. "Someone tampered with the Prometheus armor."

"But, who would do that?" Clark asked, genuinely confused. "Who would want to destroy the safety of the Metropolis police force?"

"I don't think it was deliberate," Walters spoke up, drawing their attention back to him. "I think the damage to the Prometheus armor was an accident."

"How do you accidentally sabotage a project of this magnitude?" Lois asked, skepticism plain in her voice.

"Right in the middle of the developing the Prometheus armor," Walters explained, "I was approached by Mr. Luthor, himself, and asked to devote my time and energy to a new project. An offshoot of Project Prometheus, a highly-experimental suit called Prometheus II."

"This suit," Lois said, slowly, "did it give whoever wore it supernatural abilities?"

"Yes," Walters said, looking puzzled as to how she'd made that leap. "Part of the suit's makeup included a neural interface with the wearer, and we used nanotechnology to improve the subject's reflexes, perceptions, and senses. It heightened abilities the wearer already had."

"Makes sense," Clark said, thoughtfully. "You can't make people fly, but you can make them run faster than they're capable of without the suit."

"Exactly," Walters agreed.

"So, whoever stole the suit wouldn't have wanted anyone else to be able to copy it," Lois mused, and Clark turned to her, catching her train of thought.

"They'd want to destroy the plans," he said, nodding. "Probably destroyed everything that said Prometheus on it, instead of looking for what they needed."

"And when they realized what they'd done," Lois started.

"They tried to fix their mistake with the Prometheus research," Clark finished. "Sabotaging it in the process."

"How long ago was the suit stolen?" Clark asked, whirling on Walters who was staring at their back-and-forth in disbelief.

"Less than a week ago," Walters answered. "Right before we made the final modifications to the Prometheus armor and shipped it out to the precincts."

"Without checking any of your specs, I'll bet," Lois remarked, and Walters nodded.

"I pulled the suits as soon as I realized what had happened," he said. "But that doesn't undo the fact that a good cop got shot."

"Why didn't you come forward when Prometheus II was stolen?" Clark asked. "Why wait until the day after your faulty armor nearly got a man killed?"

"Ms. Mercer put out a gag order when she realized that Prometheus II was missing," Walters explained. "She said that it was an in-house matter, and she wanted to track down the thief, herself."

"Thank you," Lois said, putting a hand on Clark's arm and gently pulling him toward the door. "We'll be sure to get this story out to the public."

"No, thank you," Walters said, fervently as they were leaving. "I didn't want that man's blood on my conscience without someone knowing about it."

"He could have stopped it," Clark vented, as they walked back to Lois's car. "If he'd just come forward when the suit was stolen-"

"Maybe it would have helped, and maybe it wouldn't have," Lois answered. "We can't deal with what ifs, Clark. We have to deal with what is."

They'd just reached Lois's car when Clark stopped and cocked his head to the side, listening intently.

"What is it?" Lois asked. "What do you hear?"

"Someone's calling for police backup," Clark said, absently, still focused on the sound. "I've got to-"

"Go," Lois finished for him, giving him an encouraging shove.

Clark felt himself move and looked down to realize that he'd unconsciously floated about a foot into the air.

"I'll meet you back at the Planet," Clark told Lois, who suddenly tugged him down to her level and kissed him, hard.

"Love you," she said, when they separated. "Be careful."

"I will," Clark promised. "I love you, too."

And then he shot up into the sky, heading toward the voices he'd heard.

He landed in the alley where the cry for help had come from and saw Detective Marks crouched protectively in front of his partner, who was unconscious and lying against the wall of a building. Clark was about to speed in, grab Turpin, and speed back out when he heard the crack of a gunshot and realized that Marks had his own gun out and was pointing it up at the building across the street where the shots had come from.

Focusing, Clark could see a man standing in a window in one of the upper stories, his gun trained unerringly on Marks's chest. The shooter pulled the trigger and Clark stepped in front of Marks, snatching the bullet out of thin air.

Marks gaped at him in shock for a second, and Clark waited anxiously for the hammer to fall, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. Marks looked him over, taking in the red and blue he was wearing, and then he shifted and was all business in a heartbeat.

"I can't see this guy," he said, angrily. "He's hiding somewhere up in that building, and I can't get him in my sights."

"I know where he is," Clark answered, twitching his shoulder as he felt a bullet bounce off his back.

"Can you get him?" Marks demanded. "Without getting shot, I mean, 'cause Lane will have my head on a platter if you get hurt because of me."

"I can get him," Clark said, feeling another bullet strike his hip.

Whirling around, he sped across the alley and though the open window the shooter was leaning out of. He grabbed the man around the waist and shoved him back away from the window, yanking the rifle out of his hands.

Rapping the man on the back of the head and catching him as he fell, Clark pulled the man's arms around behind his back and twisted the rifle into a pretzel shape around his wrists. Clark flew the unconscious man back out of the window where he deposited him and Marks's feet before turning his attention to Turpin, who was also still unconscious.

"It looks worse than it really is," Marks told him, as he lifted the injured man into his arms. "Rookie caught the bullet in his shoulder and then fell backward and hit his head on the wall."

"I'm going to take him to Metropolis General," Clark told him. "Will you call his family?"

"Yeah, sure," Marks agreed. "Hey," he added, stopping Clark before he could fly away. "You're buddies with that Green Arrow, right?"

"Yeah," Clark answered, hesitantly, wondering what he was getting at.

"Can you tell him to go easy on our guys with those arrows of his?" Marks asked. "We've got one guy at the station who's been in physical therapy for four months because he took one in the shoulder."

"I'll tell him," Clark said.

"And, hey," Marks said, quickly. "Your secret's safe with me."

Clark nodded in understanding, touched by the other man's willingness to trust him on little more than a few rescues and Lois's words. He dropped Turpin off at the hospital, smiling slightly at the sight of an empty gurney with a handwritten sign stating 'Reserved for Red-Blue-Blur' in bold letters.

_'Guess they didn't like me leaving John on the counter,'_ Clark thought, wryly.

Coming in, he was too fast to see, but someone must have been watching the gurney because as soon as he left Turpin, a voice called out, "Wait! Mr. Blur!"

Clark just kept going, not willing to test his luck or people's willingness to keep a secret twice in one day. He was in the air and well on his way back to the Daily Planet when he heard a scream in the distance. His heart almost stopped when he realized that it was Lois.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

Lois had just sat down at her desk, cup of coffee in her hand, when the world jerked under her feet. Everything went blurry for a couple of seconds, and when she could see clearly again, she almost wished she couldn't. Lois screwed her eyes tightly shut against the vertigo-inducing sight of an upside-down sky, and tried to ignore the intense sensation of nausea that was caused by her swaying.

When she finally felt steady again, and was reasonably sure she wasn't going to get sick, Lois slowly opened her eyes. She found herself suspended in midair on the roof of the Daily Planet, this discovered after she craned her head painfully around to see the familiar globe over her shoulder. She also saw Lana standing behind her, and realized, with a sinking feeling, that the uncomfortable pressure on her ankle was the other woman's grip – and the only thing holding her back from plunging to her death.

The thought that her life was literally hanging in Lana's hands was enough to make her feel cold inside.

"Did you want something, Lana?" Lois called out, ignoring the way her voice threatened to tremble.

"You're going to break things off with Clark," Lana informed her.

"I don't think so," Lois shot back, angrily.

Lana gave her a hard jerk, snapping Lois's body around like a dog with a toy, and Lois gritted her teeth against the wave of pain caused by something fracturing.

"You really think that hurting me is going to win Clark back for you?" she forced out, hoarsely.

"If you're not here, he'll have no choice but to come back to me," Lana said, smugly.

"You're insane, you know that?" Lois muttered, not caring if the other woman heard her or not.

She knew that Lana would more than likely drop her, even without Lois giving her a reason, and in the Prometheus suit, Lois had no chance of fighting back. Especially given her current precarious position.

"I love Clark," Lana snapped at her. "He belongs with me."

"He doesn't want to be with you," Lois told her.

"He will when you're gone," Lana said, and then the pressure on Lois's ankle suddenly disappeared as she let go.

Lois had time for a short scream before the wind whipped the breath right out of her body. She tried to twist around in midair and grab at the side of the building as she fell, trying to catch herself on something but she only succeeding in ripping her hands on the building, and couldn't keep a grip on anything.

Lois had screwed her eyes shut in anticipation of her impact with the ground when she hit something that didn't feel like concrete. Then, a pair of strong arms wrapped tightly around her, and Clark's voice murmured over and over into her ear, "I've got you, I've got you, I've got you."

"Who's got you?" Lois joked, weakly, wrapping her arms around his neck and opening her eyes to look up into his worried face.

"Don't ever do that again," Clark said, softly, dropping his forehead to rest against hers.

"I wasn't planning on doing it this time," Lois responded. "Nice catch, by the way."

They'd been flying upward the entire time they'd been talking, and Clark set them on the roof, catching Lois when she swayed and shifted her weight to her good leg. Lana stared at them in shock and then gaped, wordlessly, at Clark, who glared at her furiously.

"Clark, I can explain everything," Lana said, quietly, when he didn't say anything.

"Explain," Clark repeated, incredulously. "Lana, you just tried to kill Lois. You stole Luthorcorp technology. How could you possibly explain this?"

"I did this for you," Lana insisted, and Clark's eyes flew wide.

"What could make you think-" he started, and then trailed off, too angry to continue speaking.

"We know what you did to the Prometheus armor," Lois spoke up, and Lana turned her glare on her. Lois stared back, implacably, unafraid. "You stole the experimental suit and then destroyed years of research so that no one would catch you."

"You can't prove anything," Lana informed her, smugly. "I didn't leave any fingerprints, and you'll never catch me-"

She broke off, suddenly, whirling around to confront Clark when he tried to sneak behind her.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, her voice dangerous.

"You need to stop this, Lana," Clark said, firmly. "Before someone else gets hurt."

"I know what I'm doing," Lana said, coldly. "I'm making the world a better place"

"You wrecked years of research and put a man in the hospital," Lois said, incredulously. "How in the world is that better?"

"Clark, you and I are equals, now," Lana continued, ignoring Lois. "We can finally be together the way we were meant to be."

"Lana, we were never meant to be anything," Clark said, and Lana smirked at him.

"You're wrong," she said, confidently. "I'll prove to you that you're wrong."

She disappeared before Lois could even blink, and Clark made to run after her, only to lunge suddenly, grabbing a piece of concrete that had been flying toward Lois's head.

"I knew you'd do that," Lana's voice floated back to them. "You're so predictable, Clark."

Lois stared at the piece of concrete in Clark's hands and then sat down abruptly on the roof, her legs shaking. Clark, for his part, put the concrete down on the roof, and sat down beside Lois, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"That was too close," he said, quietly. "It came within an inch of your head."

"You caught it," Lois reassured him.

"I almost didn't," Clark said, and his voice was shaking as much as Lois's legs.

"You did," Lois said, firmly, trying to quell the tremors in her own voice. "Are you going to go after Lana?"

"She's halfway to Venezuela by now," Clark said, shaking his head.

"How do you know she's going to Venezuela?" Lois asked.

"Oliver said there were rumors of Lex turning up there," Clark told her. "She's been obsessed with him for so long, and now she wants to prove that we can be together-"

"You're not worried about Lex being confronted by SuperLana?" Lois asked, and Clark laughed.

"I think Lex is going to be just fine," Clark said. "It's Lana who should be worried."

Standing, he reached out and pulled Lois to her feet. "Come on. We should get back to work."

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

"-were you thinking, going after that guy without backup?"

Clark froze at the sound of Lois's voice and hovered outside the doorway, listening. Lois had left him a message telling him that the hospital had called her and told her that John was awake, and she'd apparently beaten him down to the hospital. And was laying into the older man with the riot act in his absence.

"I was thinking of doing my job," John answered, and Clark was relieved when he didn't hear any strain in the older man's voice. "If this is about missing our appointment-"

"If that's what you think I'm mad about, then you really are stupid," Lois growled, and Clark could just imagine the furious look on her face. "This is about what you did to Clark."

"Kal-el," John started, sounding as confused as Clark felt, but Lois cut him off.

"Clark was worried sick about you," Lois informed him, shortly. "The last time I saw him that shaken up was when Jonathon died."

"I didn't know," John said quietly, sounding shocked by the revelation.

"Like it or not, you're Clark's family," Lois told him. "He cares about you."

"Eavesdropping?" came a voice from behind Clark, and Clark jerked in surprise, turning around to see Oliver standing behind him.

"Don't you know it's not nice to listen in on other people's conversations?" Oliver continued, ignoring the glare that Clark was shooting his way.

"Do you mind?" Clark started, but then he trailed off when Lois appeared in the doorway.

"I've got to get back to the Planet," she told him, giving him no indication of whether or not she'd heard him at the doorway. "I'll see you later."

"I'll be home tonight, for sure," Clark promised, giving her a kiss and watching her walk down the aisle, her cane clicking softly on the tiled floor.

"Home, huh?" Oliver teased, and Clark rolled his eyes.

"Knock it off," he said in exasperation as they went into the room. "Lois already told me about your plan to get us walking down the aisle."

"There's no plan," Oliver protested. "Just subtle nudges now and then."

"You're anything but subtle," Clark informed him, and then noticed John watching them, clearly amused.

"You two," he said, shaking his head in exasperation, but maddeningly he refused to elaborate on his comment.

"I talked to Dr. Hamilton," Oliver said, as they stopped by John's bed. "He says you're going to have to go through some physical therapy before you're one hundred percent, again."

"You're lucky those bullets hit where they did," Clark said, seriously. "Any higher or lower, and we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"One where I am reminded of my limitations?" John asked, with a wry twist of his lips. "It seems to be my day for that kind of conversation."

"Sounded more like a steamrolling from Lois," Oliver remarked, idly, and Clark stepped lightly on his foot to get him to shut up.

"I didn't call for backup because I let my pride get in the way," John admitted, ignoring Oliver's smirk. "A mistake I will not make again."

"It's too easy to get used to being bulletproof," Clark agreed.

"Speak for yourself," Oliver grumbled.

"You could always adapt one of Dr. Walters's suits as your new Green Arrow costume," Clark commented, and Oliver shook his head.

"I think I'll stick to the look I've already got," he replied.

"Were you able to find out why the suit I was using failed?" John asked, and Clark nodded, sighing heavily.

"The design for the suit was sabotaged," he said.

"And the saboteur?" John asked.

"She's gone," Clark told him. "I don't think we're going to have to worry about her, again."

After a few more minutes of small talk, Clark pinned John with a somber look.

"Please don't ever do that again," he said, quietly. "I don't like seeing my friends get shot."

"I did not mean to get hurt in the first place," John replied, and Clark was reminded of similar conversations with Lois. "But, I will be more careful in the future. As you said, I'm no longer invulnerable to harm."

"I've got some ideas about that," Oliver spoke up, and Clark slipped out of the room when the other two started talking about Dr. Hamilton's research.

He was going down the hall toward the elevators when he heard his name being called, and he poked his head into one of the rooms to see Turpin pulling a jacket on over his uninjured shoulder.

"Marks says I've got your friend the Blur to thank for saving my life," Turpin said, without preamble. "We got pinned down by that nut job, and apparently the Blur saved both our butts."

"Um," Clark said, not sure how he was supposed to respond.

"Anyway," Turpin continued, not noticing Clark's hesitance, "you and Lane seem to know the guy, so if you see him, could you tell him thanks for me?"

"Sure," Clark agreed. "How are you feeling?" he asked, after a minute. "How's your shoulder doing?"

"Not too bad," Turpin said. "They're springing me, today, but I'm stuck on desk duty for a couple of months until I get through physical therapy. I'm not too happy about it, but Michelle will be pleased."

"Your wife?" Clark guessed, seeing the gold band on the other man's left hand.

"She worries about me every time I leave the house," Turpin said. "Says it scares her thinking that I might never come home."

"How can you-" Clark started to ask, but then trailed off, unsure of how to phrase his question tactfully.

"How can I go to work every day, knowing that I might leave my family behind?" Turpin guessed, and Clark nodded, relieved that the man didn't seem offended by the question.

"They're the most important people in the world to me," Turpin said, after thinking his answer over for a few moments. "My wife and my son are everything to me, and I want to do everything I can to protect them. They're what makes everything worth it."

"I know what you mean," Clark said, with a smile, but then he trailed off at the sound of someone at the doorway.

He and Turpin looked toward the door to see a woman and a young boy standing in the doorway, and then the boy ran into the room and wrapped his arms around Turpin with a delighted cry of, "Dad!"

"Hey, Davey," Turpin said, hugging his son, gently. "Clark," he said, "this is my wife, Michelle, and my son, David."

"Pleasure to meet you," Clark said, shaking hands with Michelle. "Who are you supposed to be?" he asked, looking down at the boy and seeing him dressed in blue sweats with a red cape and a mask.

"I'm the Red-Blue Blur," David announced, proudly.

"His new favorite superhero," Turpin said, with a fond smile. "Last week he was the Green Arrow."

"The Red-Blue Blur is everyone's favorite hero around our house," Michelle said.

"But not more than Dad," David declared, loyally. "I'm gonna be just like Dad when I grow up."

"Are you ready to go, honey?" Michelle asked, looking up at Turpin.

"Yeah," Turpin replied. "Just give me a minute with Clark, all right?"

Michelle nodded, leading David out of the room, and Turpin watched them go with an affectionate smile on his face.

"You're a lucky man," Clark said, and Turpin nodded in agreement.

"Kent," Turpin said, his voice serious. "I read your article about the theft of that body armor."

"Yeah?" Clark asked.

"Jones was wearing that armor when he got shot," Turpin continued, and Clark shook his head, knowing what the other man was getting at.

"If you go after that person," he said, quietly, "when they're no longer a problem, then how does that make you any better than the criminals you send to prison?"

"How is it any different than what the Red-Blue Blur or the Green Arrow does?" Turpin countered.

"Because they're not going after criminals out of revenge," Clark told him. "You don't either, do you?"

"A good cop got shot because of that thief," Turpin protested.

"And that person is paying for it," Clark said, firmly. "What would you do, if some victim's family member came to you demanding the name of someone you arrested?"

"I'd tell them to go home and leave matters to the people who could handle it," Turpin admitted, reluctantly.

"Exactly," Clark replied, and Turpin sighed at him.

"Jones is a friend of yours," he said. "How can you be so rational about this?"

"Because," Clark started, and then he stopped as he had to think about the question. "Because he wouldn't want me to go after someone in revenge. He wouldn't want that for his sake."

"You're a good man, Kent," Turpin told him.

"I try to be," Clark replied.

"So do I," Turpin said. "It helps having my family around. It reminds me why I want to be a good person."

"What about you?" he asked, as he and Clark headed for the door. "Do you have someone in your life who makes everything worth it?"

Before Clark could answer, his cell phone shrilled and he pulled it out of his pocket to see Lois's picture on the screen.

"Yeah," he said, softly. "Yeah, I do."


	7. Wild Blue Yonder

**Wild Blue Yonder**

"Clark! Come out of there," Martha cajoled at the closed bathroom door.

"No," came the flat, surly reply.

"Smallville, I'm sure you look fine," Lois called out from where she was lounging on the bed in the master bedroom.

"I look ridiculous!" Clark shot back, throwing open the door to reveal the latest costume she and Martha had talked him into trying on.

Giving Clark a swift once-over, Lois had to concede that her man had a point: he looked ridiculous in red and blue motorcycle leathers.

Her man. Lois almost rolled her eyes at how she caught herself referring to Clark, even in the privacy of her own mind. She felt a little foolish being so crazy in love with him that she was resorting to pet names, but then she'd never been this much in love, before.

"I can't even move in this get-up," Clark was complaining, snapping her out of her thoughts. "How am I supposed to fly around and save people when I can barely walk?"

"Maybe thinner leather?" Lois suggested. "Something like what Oll – the Green Arrow uses?"

"I already know about Oliver," Martha said, as Lois slanted a quick look at her to see if the older woman had noticed her slip-up.

"Maybe," Clark agreed. "I was thinking of something even thinner. Something more flexible."

"Like what?" Lois asked. "Spandex?"

"I don't know," Clark groaned, flopping down on the bed beside her. "This is impossible."

"Maybe not," Lois said, suddenly.

Bouncing off the bed, she crossed the room in a few, quick strides and snatched her cell phone from where it was sitting on the dresser.

"Ollie, it's Lois," she said, as soon as the man answered his phone. "Clark and I need your help."

She laid the situation out for him in detail, ending with, "What do you think?"

"I think you need to send me those pictures of the rejects I know you've been taking," Oliver said, and Lois could practically hear the grin in his voice.

Clark's head whipped around at the other man's words, and he stared at Lois in horror.

"You wouldn't," he said, his voice filled with dread.

"Oh, come on, Smallville," Lois said, dismissively. "It's just a few pictures."

"And I look like an idiot in them," Clark countered, stubbornly. "Nuh uh, no way."

"Deal," Lois told Oliver, and Clark glared at her. "Hey," she said in an undertone with her hand over the phone's mouthpiece, "it's only fair, considering those pictures you have of Oliver pretending to be you."

Clark relented with a wordless sigh, and Lois grinned at him.

"You'll get the pictures," she told Oliver. "Now, what about Clark's suit?"

"Give me a couple of hours," Oliver said, and Lois looked over at Clark, who looked just as surprised as she was.

"A couple of hours?" she repeated, skeptically. "What do you have up your sleeve?"

"Dr. Walters has been working on some alternate versions of the Prometheus suit ever since I hired him to work for Queen Industries," Oliver told her. "It's fire resistant and impact resistant. I figure that with Clark wearing it, it'll become practically indestructible."

"That would be useful," Clark admitted, reluctantly, and Lois agreed with him, thinking of the shopping trip they'd taken recently to stock up Clark's closet with red and blue clothes.

"Plus," Oliver added, "it's light enough and thin enough not to restrict movement, which is probably what you've been having such a hard time finding."

"Exactly," Lois replied.

"We've got several of the suits already completed, on a contract with the local fire departments," Oliver went on. "We just need to get a couple of them dyed in Clark's signature colors."

His voice took on a teasing tone as he added, "We can't have the big blue boy scout running around dressed all in black, now can we?"

Still laughing, he hung up, and Lois clicked her own phone shut. Then she turned back to Clark to see him glaring at her phone with a scowl on his face.

"No," Clark said, before she could speak." I don't care if I have to be known as the Red-Blue Blur for the rest of my life; I'm not going to be called Boy Scout."

"That's right, a name," Lois said, thoughtfully. "Any ideas?"

"What about Superman?" Martha spoke up, and they both looked at her in surprise.

"Superman," Lois repeated, nodding. "I like it. Where'd you get that name?"

Martha nodded toward the bookcase on the far wall, where a battered copy of "Beyond Good and Evil" sat on the edge.

"It just seemed to fit," she replied.

"I don't know," Clark said, doubtfully, and both women looked over at him. "What if it sounds like I'm bragging?"

"I love how that's what you're worried about with this whole crazy idea," Lois teased him.

"Clark, honey, it's not bragging if it's the truth," Martha told him.

"I guess," Clark conceded, reluctantly.

"That settles it, then," Lois said, grinning.

Then, the smile fell off her face and she swore when her eyes landed on the clock on the wall.

"We have to be at work in ten minutes," she told Clark, urgently.

"We'll make it," Clark said, confidently.

He dashed into the bathroom and was out a couple of seconds later, still tugging on his suit jacket.

"Show off," Lois grumbled good-naturedly as she shoved her feet back into the high-heeled shoes she'd kicked under the bed when she and Martha had first started dressing up Clark.

And speaking of Martha…

The older woman was watching their banter with a fond, affectionate smile on her face.

"You two have fun at work," she told them, and Clark flushed, guiltily.

"I'm sorry," she said, apologetically. "This can't be the vacation you were expecting when you came home."

"None of that," Martha said, sharply, and Clark looked at her in confusion. "I wasn't expecting anything but some peace and quiet for my vacation," she continued. "I certainly wouldn't expect you to put your lives on hold to entertain me while I'm here."

"I think that's your mom's subtle way of kicking us out of the house," Lois said with a laugh.

"All right, I get the hint," Clark said, and he hugged his mom before heading to the door. "We'll get out of your hair and see you later, tonight."

Outside, he scooped Lois into his arms and shot into the air, flying toward Metropolis. They flew in comfortable silence for several minutes, the peace of the morning only briefly broken by having to avoid a low-flying airplane.

Clark stopped in midair to scan the plane and make sure it wasn't in any trouble, only to realize that he'd overshot the Daily Planet and they were hovering over the airport.

"We'd better land before someone classifies you as a UFO," Lois teased.

"They'd have to catch me first," Clark told her, and they took off at a speed that had Lois clutching at his neck with a string of breathless curses.

They landed in a small alley behind the Daily Planet, taking a few minutes to straighten their clothes before going inside. The elevator going up was packed full of reporters loudly discussing the headlines of other newspapers, a debate that Lois quickly got sucked into.

"The Inquisitor isn't all tabloid trash," Lois protested, in defense of the paper that had printed her first headline.

"Yeah, but you work here, now!" someone called out, to a swell of laughter.

"I'm just saying," Lois said, as they spilled out of the elevator and into the bullpen, "the Inquisitor has run some reputable stories in the past – what the hell is that?"

She snatched the offending issue of the Inquisitor out of Steve Lombard's hand, glaring so hard at the headline that Clark was surprised that the paper didn't burst into flames.

"Superhero's rescue leaves man paralyzed," he read over Lois's shoulder, feeling sick as he scanned the rest of the article.

"Your buddy, the Blur, was in such a hurry that he injured some guy's spinal column when he pulled him out of a car wreck," Lombard continued, blithely, somehow oblivious to the waves of fury emanating from Lois.

"He didn't do this," Lois spit out, her eyes blazing.

"Lane, the guy stopped a runaway tanker truck in the middle of the freeway the other day," Lombard reminded her. "It's not like he's not strong enough."

"Superman did not do this," Lois growled, enunciating each word carefully, as much for Clark's benefit as Lombard's.

"Superman, huh? Is that what we're calling him, now?" Lombard asked.

Seeing Lois's almost murderous look at his lighthearted tone, Lombard quickly held his hands up in surrender.

"Hey, come on, Mad Dog. Don't shoot the messenger. You want blood, go after-" He snatched the paper out of Lois's hand and read the byline, "Linda Lake."

He walked away, leaving the paper face-up on Lois's desk, and she growled wordlessly and flipped it over so they couldn't see the offensive headline.

"This is not your fault," she told Clark, firmly, who surprised her by nodding in agreement.

"No, it's not," he replied, and Lois arched an eyebrow at him.

"Who are you and what have you done with Smallville?" she joked. "Because I thought for sure that I'd have to keep you from throwing on yourself on your sword out of guilt."

"When I pulled that guy out of his car, he was still moving," Clark told her. "I hung around until the ambulance showed up, and the worst injury he had was a busted shoulder. He even got up and was walking around when the EMTs were checking him over. He didn't have any spinal injuries when he went to the hospital."

"But, he had one when he came out," Lois said, frowning suspiciously. "Something doesn't add up."

"Talking about the headline?" a new voice piped up, and Lois and Clark startled in surprise to see Jimmy standing near their desks.

"Yeah," Lois said, quickly. "Clark was just saying that Superman told him about the car accident, and how that man didn't have any of those injuries."

"Superman," Jimmy repeated. "Is that his name?"

Clark nodded, hesitantly, and Jimmy got a goofy grin on his face.

"It is so cool that you guys know him," he said, admiringly.

"Yeah, well, just in the right place at the right time, I guess," Clark added, flashing Lois an uncomfortable look.

"Lucky," Jimmy said, without any hint of jealousy in his voice. "And, hey, I wouldn't worry about the article. I mean, it's the Inquisitor, right? No one really pays any attention to it."

"No," Lois said, slowly, her attention caught by a television screen on the far wall, "but I'll bet they'll pay attention to that."

She gestured to the television where the victim's wife was in the middle of a press conference. Her lips were moving but the sound of the television was too muffled against the din of the bullpen to hear anything that was being said. Crossing the room in a few, quick strides, Clark turned the volume up.

"-want that menace to answer for what he's done for my husband," the tearful woman was saying, angrily. "The doctors say he might never walk again, he lost his job because he can't work anymore, we might lose our house, and it's all because of that – that monster!"

She spit the last word at the microphones clustered around her face, and Clark visibly flinched as though he'd been slapped.

"She's lying," Lois said, shaking with fury, her voice low so that no one else could hear her.

"Someone lied to her," Clark corrected, just as quietly, misery clear in his tone. "She really thinks that I hurt her husband."

"Hell no," Lois said, so vehemently that Clark looked at her in shock. "We're going to investigate this," she continued, stubbornly. "We're going to find out who's really responsible for this, and then we're going to drag their sorry butts into public and make sure they pay."

"Look out world, here comes Lois Lane," Clark muttered, an involuntary smile twitching at his lips. "There's just one problem with your plan, though."

"And what is that?" Lois asked.

"All new story angles have to be vetted by Tess," Clark reminded her, referring to a memo the other woman had sent earlier in the week.

"It's a cover-up so big that they're framing Superman," Lois told him. "How could she possibly say no?"

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

"What do you mean, no?" Lois burst out, angrily, shooting Clark a dark look when he held her arms back to keep her from slamming her hands down on Tess's desk in protest.

"No," Tess repeated, looking unperturbed by Lois's outburst.

"This story is huge!" Lois insisted.

"As far as I'm concerned, there is no story," Tess said, calmly, while both reporters gaped at her in astonishment. "Your so-called superhero screwed up, and now an innocent man had to pay the price."

"That's not what happened!" Clark protested, and Tess speared him with a sharp look.

"No story," she said, flatly. "End of discussion. Now, for the assignment you will be going on-"

"What assignment?" Lois interrupted, suspiciously.

"A hospital opening out in Los Angeles," Tess told them. Here are your tickets; you leave in one hour."

"What about Superman?" Lois demanded, stubbornly, as Clark reached out to take the plane tickets and press passes from Tess.

"If it means that much to you," Tess said, smiling tightly, her tone clearly patronizing, "I'll have Olsen look into it."

She turned her attention back to the paperwork she'd been working on when they came into her office in a clear dismissal, and Clark hustled Lois out of the office before she could say anything else.

"She'll have Jimmy look into it," Lois muttered, furiously, as she stormed back over to her desk. "How is she so blind that she can't see that there's a story there and we should be looking into it instead of going to some stupid press conference?"

"I think Jimmy will be okay," Clark protested.

"Be okay at what?" Jimmy asked, as he stopped beside Clark's desk.

"That Superman story in the Inquisitor this morning," Lois told him, "it's all a bunch of lies."

"Of course it is," Jimmy said, immediately, and Clark was touched by the complete faith the other man had in his alter ego.

"We want you to look into it," he spoke up. "Find out what they're hiding."

"Why can't you guys-" Jimmy started, but then trailed off when Lois brandished the plane tickets at him. "Oh," he said, comprehension dawning.

"Speaking of," Clark added, nodding at the tickets in Lois's hand, "we need to get going if we're going to catch our plane."

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

After Lois and Clark had left for the airport, Jimmy grabbed the Inquisitor and read Lake's article about Superman from the first sentence to the last, poring over it to find someplace to start investigating. Over the next hour, he found that the victim, Daniel Halling, had actually been laid off from his job before his accident, rather than as a result of it like the article claimed. There were liens on his house and car. And he'd recently taken out an extensive life insurance policy on himself.

_'Trying to make sure his family was well taken care of, in case he had an "accident"?'_ Jimmy thought, cynically. _'So, why'd he frame Superman after he saved the guy's life? And how'd he get hurt in the first place?'_

"Guess I'm going to be paying Mr. Halling a visit," Jimmy mused, aloud, heading for the elevators.

Half an hour later, Jimmy groaned, dropping his head into his hands as he walked out of the main entrance of the Metropolis General Hospital and trudged back to his car.

"Lois and Clark make it look so easy," he groused.

"It's one of their more annoying qualities," a deep voice agreed with him.

Jimmy spun around in shock, staring at the Green Arrow stepped out of the shadows of a nearby building.

"Um," Jimmy managed to get out, still in shock.

"Word on the grapevine is that you're looking into the people trying to ruin Big Blue's good name," the Green Arrow continued, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about having a conversation while looking like he was dressed for Halloween.

"Uh, yeah," Jimmy said. "Lois and CK asked me to look into it while they're off on a story."

"Want some help?" the Green Arrow offered, and Jimmy's eyes bugged out in amazement.

"Um," Jimmy stammered, again, and he was pretty sure the Green Arrow was rolling his eyes behind his dark glasses.

"Come on, kid," he snapped, gesturing back down a side street. "I'll show you how the pros investigate."

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

Lois and Clark were hurrying toward the boarding area for their flight when they heard Clark's name shouted out from behind them. Clark had barely turned around when Bart Allen popped up under his nose. Beside him, Lois jumped in surprise and then glared at the younger man.

"Hey, Lolo," he greeted, completely unruffled by the icy stare Lois was pinning him with. "CK."

"Speedy," Lois returned, a dangerous tone in her voice, and Clark took what he considered to be a huge risk and stepped between the pair.

"What's up, Bart?" Clark asked, hoping to keep things calm. "Is it League business, because I'm on assignment, here."

"I can cover for you," Lois told him. "Press conference of this size, it'll be easy to keep people from finding out that you're not there."

"No, it's nothing like that," Bart interrupted. "Oliver just wanted me to drop this off."

"Tell Oliver that you're not his errand boy," Clark said, as he took the duffel bag that Bart held out.

Unzipping it, he peeked inside and saw a flash of bright blue.

"Wait until you see the whole thing," Bart grinned. "Boy Scout."

He disappeared as quickly as he'd showed up, and Lois rolled her eyes at the younger man's theatrics.

"Do you think that I should be worried about what Oliver's got in here?" Clark asked, shooting the duffel bag a suspicious look.

"Not much you can do about it, now," Lois rationalized. "Come on," she added, as the call for final boarding for their flight was broadcast over the intercom. "We've got to get on the plane."

Clark sighed, following Lois as she handed their tickets over to the attendant.

"Maybe I should just forget the whole costume idea," he mused. "Just stick to being a name and a blur."

"Chicken," Lois teased.

"Have you seen how Oliver looks when he goes out in public?" Clark asked rhetorically, and Lois smirked.

They reached their seats, with Lois taking the seat closest to the window. Clark stowed the duffel bag away in one of the overhead compartments and then sat down beside Lois, drumming his fingers on his legs in anxiety.

"You can fly under your own power, but you're scared of going up in a plane?" Lois asked, in an undertone.

"I've never been in a plane, before," Clark confessed.

"It's a piece of cake," Lois assured him.

The roar of the plane's engines starting up drowned out whatever else she was saying and momentarily deafened Clark, who flinched as the sound pounded at his sensitive ear drums. At Clark's worried expression, Lois squeezed his hand in reassurance. Clark sighed and settled back against his seat, closing his eyes and interlacing his fingers with Lois's.

A few minutes later, he opened his eyes at Lois's quiet murmur of, "We're in the air, Smallville."

"This is still easier when I'm the one flying," Clark complained to her, quietly.

"Just relax and go with it," Lois told him. "If Tess wants to spend the Planet's travel budget to send us on a story, let her."

"I guess," Clark replied. "What's this story we're going to cover, anyway?"

"Luthorcorp is sponsoring the opening of a new hospital in downtown Los Angeles," Lois said, reading from the press pack she'd gotten from Tess. "It's some fancy cancer center with all the latest technology."

"You've got to give Tess her due," Clark remarked. "At least she's using Luthorcorp's billions for a good cause."

"I suppose," Lois grudgingly agreed. "It still doesn't mean that I have to like her."

They lapsed into silence for a while, Clark doing his best not to look out the window. His thoughts kept drifting back to the duffel bag holding his new costume and the grin on Bart's face that still worried him. Finally, he couldn't stand it any longer and he stood up and pulled the duffel bag out of the overhead compartment.

"Where are you going?" Lois asked, curiously, and Clark jerked his head back in the direction of the small bathroom.

"If I have to deal with Oliver's sense of fashion," he told her, "I'd at least like to have some warning before the rest of the world sees me in it."

The tiny bathroom on the plane wasn't even big enough for Clark to stand with his arms held out to his sides, and he almost felt claustrophobic just stepping inside. He managed to pull the suit out and spin into it without breaking anything, a minor miracle in the cramped space, and then he looked at his reflection in the mirror for several long seconds. Then, he spun back into his work clothes, leaving the costume underneath. Making sure that the bright blue cloth wasn't showing, he went back to his seat where Lois looked up, expectantly.

"Well?" she prompted.

"It could be worse," Clark told her, as he sat down.

"But?" Lois asked, knowing that tone in Clark's voice.

"It has a cape," Clark grumbled, and Lois laughed at him, quietly.

"This is payback," he went on, "for calling Oliver's cape ridiculous."

"I'm sure Oliver would never be petty like that," Lois said, and Clark just sighed.

"There is one interesting part to it, though," he continued. "My family's crest is right in the middle of the chest."

He gave Lois a suspicious look, but she just looked innocently back.

"I may have sent Oliver a picture of Kara's bracelets and told him that it was your family's symbol," she finally admitted.

"When did you do that?" Clark asked, confused.

"Right before we left," Lois told him. "When you were calling Martha to tell her we weren't going to be home."

"Well, thank you," Clark said. "It means a lot that you'd think of something like that."

"Now we just need to think of a way to keep people from seeing Clark Kent when they look at Superman," Lois replied.

"I've been thinking about that," Clark told her. "What do you think about a pair of glasses?"

"I think people aren't blind enough to fall for that," Lois told him.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

"You know," Lois groaned, from where she was huddled miserably over in her seat, an airsickness bag held between her hands expectantly. "You could at least have the decency to pretend to be sick."

"I've got a stomach of steel," Clark said, apologetically, resting a hand on the back of Lois's neck. "The turbulence just doesn't affect me."

The plane lurched at his words, buffeted by the gale force winds of the storm that the pilot had been unable to avoid flying into. Lois groaned again, closing her eyes and breathing deeply to keep from getting sick.

All around the plane, people were in the same condition as she was. Even the experienced flyers were having a hard time dealing with the rough ride. Outside the windows of the plane, the storm raged relentlessly, rain lashing at the hull while lightning streaked through the sky, coming dangerously close to the plane's wings.

"You aren't hiding some weather-controlling power up your sleeve, by chance?" Lois asked, her voice muffled by her doubled-over position.

"No, sorry," Clark said, apologetically.

Lois sighed, heavily. "It was worth a shot," she said.

Cautiously, she pushed herself upright and Clark wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her.

"Thanks," she said, looking around the plane. "At least I'm not alone in my misery."

"It could be worse," Clark pointed out.

"How?" Lois asked, her voice cracking with the effort not to get sick as the plane lurched again and the pilot snapped out an order over the intercom for all passengers to buckle themselves into their seats. "How could the roller coaster ride from Hell possibly get any worse?"

Clark looked up from where he was crouched by a little girl, helping her get her seatbelt buckled and watched as a stray bolt of lightning grazed the wings, leaving a dark, charred streak on the metal.

"That's how," he said, grimly.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

Jimmy stopped in the doorway and stared slack-jawed at what, from the outside, looked like an innocuous penthouse apartment in the clock tower building. Inside, the posh apartment was filled with high-tech equipment, including several computer screens lining an entire wall.

"This is amazing," Jimmy breathed, practically drooling with envy over the computers.

"We have a good sponsor," the Green Arrow said with a chuckle.

"Is this-" Jimmy demanded, snatching a small silver object off a nearby table.

"Camera worth about half a million dollars," the Green Arrow said, plucking the camera from Jimmy's suddenly-nerveless fingers. Striding further into the penthouse, he called out, "We've got company, folks. Put your game faces on."

Jimmy heard shuffling sounds from another room and then about a minute later, a tall, leggy, fishnet-clad blonde stepped out into the War Room (Jimmy couldn't think of it as anything else). She was wearing a mask that was so tight against her skin that it looked like it was painted on.

After about a second, he realized that it was painted on. Then, he realized that he was openly staring and blushed, furiously, the woman smirking at his reaction.

"Olsen, this is the Black Canary," Green Arrow said, his tone amused even through the voice distorter. "Canary, meet James Olsen of the Daily Planet. He's been looking into that article from the Inquisitor."

"Pleasure to meet you," Canary said, through a distorter of her own. Cocking her head toward Arrow, she asked, "What's he got on these people that we can't get?"

"An interview with the victim for one," Arrow replied, before Jimmy could be offended by the woman's tone. "Give him a chance to tell us what else he knows. And where's Cyborg?"

"Right here," a gravelly voice spoke up. Jimmy looked up to see a figure in the same kind of hooded costume as Arrow. "Some of us," he added, with a pointed glare in Canary's direction, "can't get ready so fast."

"You just like pimping in front of the mirror," Canary smirked.

"Can we focus here, please?" Arrow asked, clearly exasperated. "Olsen, what did you learn when you talked to the victim."

"Not much," Jimmy replied. "He insists that his brakes failed. He said that he tried to stop at an intersection, only his brakes had gone out."

"That's easy enough to verify," Arrow said, and then he flipped open a cell phone and dialed, talking to someone he called 'Impulse' about checking out the garage where the victim's car had been towed.

"How'd he wind up trying to wrap his car around a telephone pole?" Cyborg asked.

"Apparently, he was trying to avoid a kid in the crosswalk," Jimmy answered.

"So, he wasn't trying to kill himself so that his family could collect on the insurance money?" Canary asked, validating Jimmy's suspicions that the Arrow's group already had done their own investigating.

"He swears that he took the insurance policy out on himself and his wife after he found out that they were expecting another baby," Jimmy said. "And when I suggested otherwise, I got pitched out of the room," he added, ruefully.

"There's a fine line between investigating and insulting," Arrow told him as he hung up the phone. "Impulse says that the car's brake line is completely intact. No signs of damage."

"There goes that theory," Jimmy grumbled.

"So, how'd the brakes fail?" Cyborg asked.

"Is there anything wrong with the brakes?" Arrow asked, and then listened for a moment.

"Slipped brake disc," he said, a moment later. "Impulse says that it was probably shoddy maintenance."

"Doesn't explain the guy's injuries, though," Canary spoke up.

"Impulse," Arrow said into the phone, "how do you feel about stealing some x-rays from the hospital?"

From over the phone came a man's voice. "I am not your errand boy, Arrow!"

Arrow chuckled and clicked his phone off.

"How is he going to steal x-rays from the hospital?" Jimmy asked, but Arrow shook his head.

"Better that you don't know," he said.

Anything else he would have said was cut off by a gust of wind that nearly knocked everyone off their feet.

"Sorry I'm late," the voice from over the phone said, and Jimmy turned to see a man in yet another hooded costume standing in the doorway. Holding up a large paper bag, he added, "I stopped off and grabbed some lunch for everyone."

"Where are Halling's x-rays?" Arrow asked, sounding like he was rapidly losing patience.

With a smirk, Impulse held out a large yellow envelope that Arrow snatched impatiently from his hand.

"How'd you get here when he just called you?" Jimmy asked, curiously, tipping his head toward Arrow.

"Like this," Impulse said, and before Jimmy even had time to blink, the hooded man was standing on the other side of the room.

"Stop showing off and get over here and help me decipher these images," Arrow snapped out. "Exactly what am I looking at, here?"

"These are the pre-op x-rays and those are the post-op," Cyborg said, joining Arrow. "See this area here?"

He pointed to a spot on the post-op x-rays where a jagged line ran through the victim's spinal column.

"It's completely the same on the pre-op x-ray," he continued. "That's not possible, not after a person's been through surgery."

"So, why didn't anything change?" Canary demanded.

"I think we need to talk to Halling's surgeon," Arrow stated.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

"Aren't planes supposed to have lightning rods?" Clark asked, eyeing the windows warily as he dropped back into his seat beside Lois.

"The wind must have sheared it off," Lois replied. "If that's the case, then we could be in some serious trouble."

"We're already in some serious trouble," Clark corrected her, grimly, as another blast of lightning streaked dangerously close to the windows of the plane, making several passengers scream in fear.

"Is there anything you can do?" Lois asked, worriedly.

"Like what?" Clark asked. "Maybe if I could draw the lightning off, somehow-"

"But you're not actually a lightning rod," Lois finished for him. "Guess our lives are in the pilot's hands, huh?"

The plane's intercom crackled to life and after a second, the pilot addressed the passengers.

"Folks, this is your captain speaking," the woman said. "I'm afraid we've run into some engine trouble and we're going to have to make an emergency landing. I'd like to remind everyone to please remain in their seats and please remain calm."

"Me and my big mouth," Lois grumbled.

Someone screamed again, as the plane lurched wildly, and Clark focused his vision through the hull of the plane to see the problem.

"Lightning struck the tail of the plane," Clark told Lois in an undertone. "It's on fire; I have to do something."

"Like what?" Lois hissed, repeating his earlier words.

"Don't know yet," Clark told her. "I'm making this up as I go."

He dropped a quick kiss on Lois's cheek and disappeared in the blink of an eye. He was so fast that even Lois, who was watching for it, couldn't see the emergency hatch open or close. Which, she supposed, was a good thing. The last thing they needed was some jumpy attendant raising the alarm over a passenger jumping to his death.

The plane bucked and pitched with the pressure loss from when Clark had opened the door, though, and Lois prayed that the other passengers just thought it was more turbulence from the storm.

Turning her attention back to the seat beside her, Lois rolled her eyes at Clark's suit which he'd carelessly dumped on his seat as he left. Grabbing the now-empty duffel bag from the overhead compartment, she stuffed Clark's suit inside and settle back down to wait.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

Outside the plane, Clark flew back to the blazing tail, using his hands to smother the flames. He landed on top of the hull, trying to balance in spite of the winds that threatened to knock him off, and he started to walk toward the front, x-raying each of the engines to try and see which one had failed.

Unfortunately, he quickly saw that a failed plane engine looked nothing like the one in the tractor back home, and even if he could have identified it, there was no way he'd be able to fix it, least of all in midair.

Clark had almost reached the nose of the plane when a bolt of lightning struck him in the chest, sending him tumbling back toward the end of the plane. Clark rolled off the plane to avoid taking out the tail with his momentum and caught himself in midair to watch the plane continue its unsteady descent toward the ground.

Then, he watched horrified as a huge bolt of lightning tore a jagged path along the body of the plane and set the left wing on fire. One of the engines in the wing exploded, the deafening roar drowning out the terrified screams of the passengers as the plane lurched wildly and started falling toward the ground like a rock.

Clark swore and streaked after the plane, grabbing the blazing wing and ripping it away from the rest of the plane. He hurled it higher into the atmosphere away from the plane. The loss of the wing sent the plane spinning in a new direction and Clark flew to intercept it. He streaked forward, catching sight of Lois as he went past. She'd disregarded the pilot's orders and her own safety, and was out of her seat and crouched in front of the little girl he'd been helping earlier, wedged between the girl's seat and the one in front.

He reached the front of the plane and twisted around so that he was facing the cockpit, bracing himself against the nose with both hands. He wasn't sure how he was going to stop the plane without anything to brace himself against, but he had to try something.

Clark flew upwards as fast as he could go, straining against the pull that gravity was exerting on the plane. He focused solely on the task at hand, ignoring the burning sensation on his skin as his speed heated the air around him. He could hear sounds in the distance getting closer, first traffic and then people.

_'I've got to stop this thing before we hit the city,'_ he thought, desperately.

He could feel the plane slowing down as they fell further and further through the sky, and by the time he was hovering less than a foot above the ground, he was holding the plane aloft in the air, his arms buried to the elbow in the nose of the plane.

Clark let out a deep sigh of relief and resettled his grip on the plane. He set it down as gently as possible on the stretch of freeway that had been cleared by emergency personnel when they thought that the plane was going to crash. Inside the plane, the pilot and copilot were staring at him in unblinking shock and Clark offered them a smile and a wave that the pair tentatively returned. Going around to the side of the plane, he wrenched the door open and stepped inside.

"Everyone all right?" he asked, looking around at the shell-shocked passengers. "Is anyone hurt?"

"I think we're all right, Superman," Lois called out, and Clark watched her move out into the aisle.

She smiled at him, reassuringly, and he gave her a barely-perceptible nod in return.

"I hope this hasn't put any of you off flying," he said, addressing the other passengers. "Statistically speaking, it's still the safest way to travel."

Hearing footsteps behind him, he took off into the air as the emergency slide unrolled behind him and the passengers slowly began to get off. Clark turned in midair faster than anyone could see him, zipping back into the plane and grabbing the duffel bag with his suit, which had managed to stay in the overhead compartment despite the tumultuous ride.

A quick turn at the back of the plane, and then Clark was beside Lois in a few heartbeats, making her jump when he popped up practically right underneath her nose. Lois let out a startled yelp that she hastily muffled by wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug, burying her face in his chest.

"You saved us," she murmured, and Clark could feel her shaking against him.

"What do you say we take the Superman Express the rest of the way to Los Angeles?" he murmured into her hair, and Lois chuckled.

"It's like you read my mind," she told him.

Someone cleared their throat behind them, and they looked up to see one of the flight attendants watching them.

"If you folks would like to disembark?" the man suggested, gesturing to the open door.

Clark hitched the duffel bag higher on his shoulder, wrapping an arm around Lois's wais and leaning into her answering embrace. They slid down the inflatable slide together and when they hit the ground, Lois stayed where she was for a few seconds, head tipped back in the rain.

"You're getting wet," Clark told her.

Lois didn't say anything for several long seconds; she just sat with her eyes closed, rain streaking down her face. Then, she accepted the hand Clark held out to her and let him pull her to her feet.

"I love you," she said, startling Clark when she buried her face against his shoulder, again. She was deliberately muffling her words, Clark realized, after a moment.

"I love you," she repeated, firmly. "And I didn't get a chance to tell you that before you left, and I thought I was never going to be able to-"

She broke off, her voice choking up, and Clark tightened his grip.

"I'm sorry," he told her, quietly. "I'm so sorry."

They stood like that for several more minutes before Lois pulled away, wiping wetness of her cheeks that Clark didn't think was rain.

"Let's go, Smallville," she said, briskly. "I want to dry off before we head to LA."

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

"James Olsen, Daily Planet. I'm here to talk about Daniel Halling."

Jimmy flashed his press badge and his biggest smile at the doctor who glared past him at the receptionist manning the desk out in the hallway.

"What did you want to talk about?" Miles Whitcomb asked, tersely, obviously deciding that shooing Jimmy on his way with some nondescript information was better than raising a scene by calling security.

"I have just a few questions about Mr. Halling's surgery," Jimmy told him. "Just some follow-up to what was printed in the Inquisitor."

"I didn't know that the Daily Planet and the Inquisitor collaborated on stories," Whitcomb said, in an obvious attempt to change the subject.

When Jimmy just sat there, silently, the older man fidgeted with a pen for a couple of seconds and then sighed.

"Mr. Halling underwent surgery for a severed spinal column," he finally said, sounding like he was reading off of a cue card. "We tried and were ultimately unsuccessful in repairing the damage left by that so-called superhero, the Red-Blue Blur."

"Superman, actually," Jimmy corrected him. "His name is Superman."

"I don't care what his name is," Whitcomb said. "I only care about the people he hurts."

"So, as Mr. Halling's surgeon," Jimmy asked, "what explanation can you give for the discrepancies between his pre and post-op x-rays?"

"What discrepancies?" Whitcomb demanded, pinning Jimmy with a furious look. "Where did you see Halling's x-rays?"

"A reporter never reveals his sources," Jimmy said, and the doctor turned scarlet with rage.

"Out," he growled, stabbing a finger at his open office door. "Get out of this hospital before I call the police."

Jimmy went without another word, and as he was leaving the office, he noticed Whitcomb grabbing his phone and punching angrily at the buttons, hissing into the mouthpiece, "You told me no one would find out!"

Canary, who'd been speaking into an earpiece hidden in his ear, congratulated him on a good job.

"I didn't get anything out of him, though," Jimmy protested, quietly, trying not to draw attention to the fact that it looked like he was talking to himself. "That little snippet of phone conversation at the end doesn't prove anything without context."

"You rattled him pretty good," Canary said. "Trust me, innocent people don't act like that. He's got something to hide."

"And how are we supposed to find out what that something is?" Jimmy asked.

"That's where the guys come in," Canary told him.

**  
XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

Lois and Clark spent nearly an hour at the airport trying to dry off before they continued to LA. To keep themselves busy, Clark took one half of the airport and Lois took the other, and they wandered around, interviewing people who had been on the plane, people who'd been on the ground watching, anyone who could give them a reaction to the plane's near-crash. And when they met up at a small café to have lunch, Clark was surprised to see Lois with a bunch of cameras dangling from her wrists by their straps.

"Um, Lois?" he asked, nodding at the cameras.

Lois followed his gaze and grinned.

"Fifty bucks and a photo credit if we run a picture in the paper," she explained. "I think we'll find at least a few good ones."

"How are you-" Clark started, and Lois cut in when she realized what he was getting at.

"There's an ATM back that way," she told him, gesturing in the direction she'd come from. "And Tess agreed to have the budget office cover all expenses if we can turn in some good pictures of Superman saving the plane."

"Tess doesn't think you can do it," Clark realized, and Lois nodded.

"Of course she doesn't," Lois said. "Why do you think she agreed to the deal in the first place?"

"We're going to have to screen the pictures, first," Clark reminded her, and Lois sighed as though Clark was testing her patience.

"One," she told him, ticking points off on her fingers, "it's been raining so hard that I don't think anyone actually caught a good look at your face. You haven't had anyone calling you Superman, have you?"

Clark nodded, and was ready to concede the issue on that point alone, but Lois wasn't finished.

"Two," she continued, stubbornly, "with all of his contacts, I'm sure Ollie knows someone who can develop photos for us and be counted on to be discreet."

"My mom," Clark interrupted, suddenly. "She's always been interested in art, used to dabble in photography. She even used to have a darkroom in our basement, but she gave it up when I was five and I drank a bottle of developing fluid. I was sick for two days."

Lois had a good laugh at that.

"And three," she finished, still chuckling, "no one's going to look at Superman and connect him with glasses-wearing reporter, Clark Kent."

"Oh, so we're going with the glasses, now?" Clark asked, teasingly. "What happened to people not being that blind?"

"It's the only idea we've got," Lois told him. "Unless you have a better idea?"

Clark was silent for a minute, thinking, and then he shook his head.

"People will trust me more as Superman if I'm not hiding behind some mask," he said. "There's enough suspicion of me thanks to Linda Lake. I'm not going to add to it."

"Speaking of the mudslinger," Lois said, "do you think we should call home and see if Jimmy's made any progress in redeeming your good name?"

"I already did," Clark told her. "Bart answered Jimmy's phone, insisted they had everything under control, and then hung up."

"Jimmy's working with Oliver and company?" Lois asked, incredulously. "Should we be worried?"

"I think we should focus on getting to LA and covering the cancer center's grand opening," Clark told her. "I think we can trust Oliver to handle things."

Lois shook her head in mock sympathy.

"It's like you don't even know the man," she said, teasingly.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

"Are you sure you trust this Olsen guy?" Victor asked, for about the tenth time since the group had started their investigation.

"Little late to back out now," Oliver told him, as they walked down the hallway of the hospital that lead to the radiology department.

"Can we really trust this guy with our secrets, though?" Victor pressed.

"It's not like we're giving him our complete autobiographies," Bart said, rolling his eyes at Victor's dramatics. "He doesn't even know anything other than we've got some really cool computers."

"I'm just saying-" Victor protested.

"Over, and over, and over again," Bart said, mockingly, cutting him off.

"Fine," Victor snapped, glaring at the younger man. "Get your face splashed all over the front page of the Daily Planet for all I care."

"If anyone's interested," Dinah broke in, "I just thought you'd all like to know that you've been on an open comm line for about five minutes now."

There was silence from all three guys for a few seconds and then Dinah snickered.

"Olsen's on a different channel," she reminded them.

"That's not funny," Oliver told her.

"It was from my end," Dinah said. "Olsen's been talking to Whitcomb's receptionist, who's not the dumb blonde he likes to think she is."

"Anything we can use?" Victor asked.

"She says to forget radiology," Dinah said, after a minute of conferring with Jimmy. "She says what you want to do is go down to the basement and look for an old copy machine in the back corner. Apparently it was replaced six months ago after someone spilled coffee on the screen."

"Basement, got it," Oliver replied.

They started in that direction, stopping suddenly when they heard a sharp intake of breath from Dinah, followed by a strangled scream that was abruptly cut off.

"Find that copy machine," Oliver told Bart, who dashed off toward the basement, leaving Oliver and Victor to run down the hall to where Dinah and Jimmy were waiting.

They found Jimmy unconscious on the floor, completely soaked from head to toe. And Dinah was frozen in a column of water in the middle of the hallway, eyes wide with panic as she struggled to breathe.

"What the hell?" Victor demanded, taking in the scene.

Oliver lunged forward, grabbing Dinah by the arms to try and pull her out of the water, only to find himself being submersed as well. He managed to take one last breath before the water completely covered him, and then he focused on holding his breath as he struggled to escape. The water was relentless, though, and it was like trying to move through a solid wall just to move even an inch.

Oliver met Dinah's furious, panicked gaze, wondering if she was the last thing he was ever going to see, and then a jolt shot through his body, lighting every nerve ending on fire. He found himself struggling to breathe, again, but this time it was from the pain of having just been electrocuted.

When he finally was able to catch his breath, taking in deep, frantic gasps of air, he realized two things: one, that he and Dinah were no longer surrounded by the column of water. And two, that there was a blonde woman standing in the middle of the hallway, struggling against the iron-clad grip Victor had on her arms.

"Someone should check on Olsen," he said, but Dinah was already kneeling at the younger man's side, helping him to sit up as he moaned in pain.

"Feels like I got run over by a truck," Olsen commented, weakly.

"She's certainly wearing enough makeup to cover one," Bart quipped, zipping up to stand beside his teammates. Linda Lake glared at him.

"How did you-" Oliver asked, nodding at Lake.

"Electricity," Victor answered, and Oliver looked past him to an electrical outlet that had been ripped out of the wall. "Causes water molecules to go haywire."

"Nice," Oliver commented. "Now, to call the cops on Ms. Lake, here."

"You can't prove anything," she snarled, furiously.

There was silence for a moment, then a soft click, and then Lake's voice filled the hallway.

"You wouldn't believe the way Whitcomb was bawling about his career being ruined. Well, maybe you would, but you'll never get the chance to tell anyone."

There was another click, and then Jimmy said, sounding satisfied, "Digital recorder. Shatterproof, scratchproof, and waterproof. Just the thing for recording those pesky confessions."

"Good going, Olsen," Victor said, sounding impressed despite himself.

"Bet the police will be really interested in this," Jimmy continued. "Especially that part where you threatened to murder me and Canary."

"This isn't over," Lake threatened, darkly.

"Oh, yes it is," Oliver told her. "You're going to have a nice long time sitting in a jail cell."

"Not if you don't want me telling the world who the Red-Blue Blur really is," Lake said, in a sing-song voice.

"What are you talking about?" Jimmy asked, while the League exchanged uneasy looks behind his back.

"You mean, you don't know who your friend Clark Kent really is?" Lake asked, her voice sickly-sweet.

Oliver held his breath, waiting for Jimmy's reaction, but to his surprise, the younger man only laughed.

"Clark Kent is Superman," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "That's a good one."

"It's the truth," Lake spit out, furious that he wasn't playing along.

"Yeah," Jimmy said, dismissively. "Just like it was the truth the last time you tried to ruin Clark's reputation. He's a good man, and I'm not going to let any more of your lies hurt him."

Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, he dialed the police, ignoring the dark looks Lake was shooting his way.

"That was too close," Dinah muttered, watching as Lake struggled to free herself from Victor's relentless grip. "What if she tells someone else?"

"Then we'll figure something out," Oliver replied, just as quietly. "I don't think we're going to have any trouble convincing people she's just crazy, though."

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

While Lois stayed at the airport café to work on their copy, Clark zipped back to Smallville with the cameras to have Martha develop the pictures. He was back in about an hour and a half with a stack of the suitable ones placed carefully in a long envelope along with copies downloaded onto a slim flash drive.

"These are all the good ones?" Lois asked, flipping through the photos Clark handed her.

"No face, no chance of identifying me on the front page," he confirmed. Holding up the flash drive, he added, "I've got this so that we can e-mail them to Tess before we leave."

"Here's the article," Lois said, turning her laptop around so that Clark could read the story.

"Brave, heroic actions?" Clark read, shooting Lois a look.

"Just calling things like I see them," Lois told him.

They spent another twenty minutes editing their article and weeding through the pictures for the best ones, and then they sent the finished piece to Tess and Lois shut her laptop down. They headed out of the airport and ducked behind the building, where Clark spun into his new suit and took off into the sky, Lois in his arms.

They landed in LA with thirty minutes to spare before the press conference. Arriving at the hospital, they went to the cafeteria where the press conference was being held. Lois grabbed an updated press pack from a table where a group of reporters was loitering, chatting amongst themselves.

"Clark Kent and Lois Lane, Daily Planet," Clark told the woman at the check-in table.

"Find a place to sit," the woman replied, handing them a pair of name badges. "The conference will start in a little while."

They wound their way through the crowd, managing to find a pair of seats near the front. Clark skimmed through the new press pack while Lois chatted up a couple of reporters from the Chicago Sun-Times. Almost ten minutes later, the director of the new hospital stepped up to the podium, tapping on the microphone to clear the static and sending a squeal of feedback through the crowd that had everyone cringing in pain.

"Sorry about that, folks," the director said, over the microphone. "Thank you all for coming, today. I know you're all eager to be out in the sunshine, so I'll try to keep this brief."

The man launched into his spiel about the new hospital, outlining the new technology that the center boasted. His presentation went on for almost two hours, and then opened for questions from the assembled reporters. Clark lobbed the man a couple of softballs directly from the press pack, curious to know if he'd actually read his own promotional material. The director handled his questions easily, along with Lois's tougher questions about doctors' benefits compared to compensation received by other medical staff employed by the hospital and the amount of money being reserved exclusively for patient care.

"Well, this group seems to know what they're doing," Lois commented, as they filed out of the cafeteria.

"You're still not going to give Tess her due, are you?" Clark asked, and Lois shook her head.

"Signing a check doesn't make you a good person," she replied, stubbornly. "It just makes you rich enough to fund a hospital."

Clark rolled his eyes good-naturedly at her as he held the lobby door open for her to precede him out to the sidewalk, and then they both froze for a moment at the sound of sirens. A pair of police cruisers shot down the street, sirens screaming in a high-speed chase, and then Lois felt a rush of wind as Clark vanished from beside her in pursuit.

The car fleeing from the police was weaving in and out of traffic, forcing other drivers off the side of the road to avoid being hit. The car was fairly flying down the street, the police cruisers and the crowd of reporters sprinting after it. Then, the car ran a red light at an intersection, bearing down on a pedestrian who couldn't move out of the way fast enough.

Around her, the other reporters were screaming at the woman at the top of their lungs, but Lois just held her breath, waiting anxiously. Then, seconds before the car would have struck the woman, it was lifted into the air, soaring over the woman's head to be placed back down on the street several hundred yards away.

Clark, who'd grabbed the roof the car to lift it into the air, zipped around to the front and placed his hands squarely on the hood, anchoring the car in place. The tires squealed futilely as the driver tried to escape, but Clark held firm, keeping the driver trapped until the police had pulled up and ran over.

"How did you do that?" Lois heard one of the cops demand as she ran up to the scene with the rest of the crowd. "Who are you?"

"I'm Superman," Clark replied, his voice lowered an octave from his normal tone.

"You were flying," another cop said, and Clark nodded.

"Yes, I was," he confirmed. "It's one of my powers."

"What are the rest of your powers?" one of the assembled reporters demanded, seizing the opening Clark's comment had given them. "Are you some sort of mutant?"

"I'm an alien," Clark said, and the crowd started mumbling wildly amongst themselves.

"When you say alien-" another reporter began, and Clark cut her off.

"I was born on another planet," he elaborated, and the buzzing from the crowd, which was growing by the second, grew louder.

"Are we being invaded by an alien race?" someone called out, and Lois stepped in before a riot could result.

"He just stopped a high-speed car chase and kept people from being hurt," she said, leaping to Clark's defense.

"I am not the beginning of an alien invasion," Clark said, raising his voice so that everyone gathered around could hear him. "I am one of the last of my people; I'm here on Earth to live among your people and help however I can."

"Are you this Red-Blue Blur we've been reading about in the Daily Planet?" someone asked.

"Yes I am," Clark answered.

"Why come forward now?" another reporter called out, holding a small digital recorder out towards Clark. "Why not keep hiding?"

"Originally, I was unsure how I would be received by the public," Clark said, as the crowd leaned forward eagerly to hear his answer. "But, I realized that I could do much more good in the world if I was out in the open."

"You were the one who caught the plane out in Colorado," the first reporter said. "Can you tell us anything about that?"

"The plane experienced left engine failure," Clark answered. "The other engines were not powerful enough to compensate for the loss, and it started to rapidly lose altitude."

"The rest of the story can be read tomorrow in the Daily Planet," Lois interrupted, and a couple of the reporters who knew her glared at her in exasperation.

"Do you have to get every story?" someone muttered, irritated.

"I was on the plane, I took advantage of an opportunity," Lois replied. "You know how it works, Brooks. Right place, right time."

Clark cocked his head to the side, suddenly, catching Lois's attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd love to stay and answer more of your questions," he said, "but there's an emergency I need to attend to."

He took off into the air, cape whirling around him, and Lois watched him go, standing still as the other reporters ran after him, still shouting questions.

"Welcome to the world, Superman," she murmured, quietly.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

Jimmy sat on a hard, plastic chair in the waiting area of the fifth precinct, his leg jiggling nervously and his hands clutched convulsively on a bright yellow manila envelope. He'd been waiting for nearly twenty minutes to talk to Detective Jones, CK's friend who was still recovering from a recent gunshot wound.

"Mr. Olsen?"

Jimmy looked up at the sound of the man's voice and Detective Jones motioned for him to follow him back to his desk.

"You said you had some important information about Daniel Halling's accident?" Jones prompted.

"These," Jimmy said, sliding the x-rays out of the envelope and passing them over to Jones.

"What am I looking at?" Jones asked, and Jimmy leaned forward, explaining.

"And this stain on the pre-op x-ray matches the one on the blank film that was run through the broken copier," he finished. "It could have only gotten there one way."

"This is a very serious allegation you're making," Jones said, somberly.

"I know," Jimmy answered. "But it's true. Whitcomb paralyzed his patient and then lied to the patient and his family to cover it up."

"I'm going to ask that you sit on this story until after I've arrested Dr. Whitcomb," Jones continued, and Jimmy nodded in understanding.

"We don't send the copy to print until about ten o'clock, tonight," he replied. "And even then, Tess Mercer is probably going to assign the story to someone else."

"I don't know," Jones remarked. "It sounds to me like you've got your first story, Olsen."

Jimmy left the precinct after about another half an hour of answering Jones's questions, and went into the alley behind the building to where Arrow was waiting.

"Good job," Arrow told him. "Now we just leave the rest to Jones."

"What about Halling and his family?" Jimmy asked, concerned. "The guy lost his job, and now he can't go back to it."

"Halling and his family will be well taken care of," Arrow assured him. "I don't think an engineer with his talents is going to be unemployed for too long."

"Speaking of," Jimmy said, as he headed back to the street, "I need to get back to work before I find myself unemployed."

"Hold on a minute," Arrow called, and Jimmy turned to look at the hooded man. "What would you say to a job offer?"

"Job offer?" Jimmy repeated. "What kind of job?"

"You may have noticed that my group has a hard time with going undercover," Arrow said. "I need someone on my team who can act as a go-between for the League and the rest of the world. A liaison of sorts. Plus, you showed that you're pretty good with computers, which is a plus. We need someone around who can keep up with Cyborg's technobabble."

"I have a job," Jimmy told him.

"I pay well," Arrow said. "Very well. Plus, you could still freelance for the Planet if that's what you want."

"My photography isn't a hobby," Jimmy said, wondering if he was offending the other man by turning down his offer. "I'm good at it, and truthfully, I can't imagine doing anything else."

"Fair enough," Arrow conceded. "Can't blame me for trying, though."

"I hope you find someone you can work with," Jimmy told him.

"I've got some irons in the fire," Arrow replied. "It was good working with you, Olsen. Superman's lucky to have a pal like you."

"Thanks," Jimmy said, fighting the urge to blush at the unexpected compliment.

"See you around," Arrow told him, and then he shot a grappling hook up to the nearest rooftop and let it pull him into the sky.

"This has got to be one of the weirdest days ever," Jimmy decided, as he headed for his car.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

"This is a good story," Lois said, as she read Jimmy's page one expose of Dr. Whitcomb.

"It's okay," Jimmy said, blushing.

"No, this is really good work," Clark told him. "I'll bet Superman's glad to have you in his corner."

Jimmy just shook his head.

"Like he's got time to read my work when he's off catching planes," he said, depreciatingly.

"Hey, don't sell yourself short," Lois scolded.

"Yeah," Clark said. "Superman's probably a big fan of the Daily Planet."

He winced when Lois elbowed him in the ribs and glared at him.

"You know," she hissed under her breath. "I think you're having too much fun with this dual identity thing."

Clark just smirked, turning back to Jimmy to keep talking about the younger man's article. Retreating back to her desk, Lois picked up the phone and dialed Oliver's number.

"What's this I hear about you trying to steal Jimmy away from the Daily Planet?" she asked, accusingly, when Oliver picked up the phone.

"Hey, I need someone around who's good with computers and good with the team," Oliver defended his actions. "Olson fits the bill on both."

"If I give you a name, will you leave Jimmy alone?" Lois wanted to know.

"Sure," Oliver said, easily. "Is it Chloe?"

"Barbara Gordon," Lois told him. "We were in high school together for six months when the General was stationed at Fort Lewis in Gotham City. We kept in touch over the years, and she's a genius when it comes to computers."

"Will you drop a good word for me?" Oliver asked.

"If you promise to not poach Jimmy away from us," Lois said.

"Fine, fine," Oliver agreed, easily. "So, is this Barbara pretty?"

"Very," Lois answered. "She's also fully capable of kicking your butt, so watch those wandering eyes of yours."

"My eyes never wander," Oliver protested, and Lois scoffed in disbelief.

"Yeah, right," she said, and Clark looked over at her tone. _'Oliver,'_ she mouthed, pointing at her phone.

"Hey, what's that?" she heard Jimmy ask, suddenly, and she looked over to see Clark's police-band scanner blinking on his computer screen.

"That's Clark's reminder to go buy me that frozen yogurt he promised me this morning," Lois lied, smoothly, while Clark was floundering for an answer. "Better get going, Smallville."

"Right," Clark said, quickly catching on. "One frozen yogurt coming right up."

He darted out of the newsroom, and Jimmy stared after him in disbelief.

"Wow," he remarked. "I've never seen CK move that fast. You must really want that frozen yogurt."

"What I really want is a good story," Lois told him. "Let's get going."

"Going where?" Jimmy asked, even as he grabbed his camera.

"Superman's out there, somewhere," Lois said, memorizing the address on Clark's computer screen. "We're going to go find him."


	8. Careless Wishes

**Careless Wishes**

"A magician, Lois? Really?" Chloe stared at the flyer Lois had handed her in disbelief. "I'm not ten."

"Well, you'll have to forgive me," Lois said, wryly. "The last time I planned a birthday party, Lucy was ten."

"Well, I'm sure I'll have fun anyway," Chloe remarked, missing the wince that passed across Lois's face at her words. "Especially considering I don't remember any of the birthday parties I had over the last four years."

"You hit your head pretty hard," Lois said, looking slightly guilty for some reason. "Give it time; I'm sure your memories will come back."

"I'm not so sure," Chloe said, sighing. "Some days it feels like the missing pieces of my memory aren't ever going to come back."

An awkward silence fell over the room at her words, and then Chloe laughed at herself.

"Listen to me being all mopey," she said, shaking her head in exasperation at her mood. "It's my birthday; I don't want to be Debbie Downer at my own party."

"We've got about half an hour before everyone starts arriving," Lois told her. "You wouldn't believe how many people RSVP'd."

"Thank you," Chloe said, earnestly. "You and Jimmy really worked hard to make this a fantastic birthday for me."

"You deserve it," Lois said. "Now, come on. I need some help getting these streamers up."

"Shouldn't someone other than the birthday girl be helping you?" Chloe asked, wryly, holding the ladder steady for Lois as she climbed the rungs.

Nearly an hour later, the party was in full swing, and Chloe wandered over to the buffet table, snagging a carrot off the vegetable tray and biting into it. She hated even admitting it to herself, but she wasn't having very much fun at her own birthday party. Not after Clark had to run off and then started calling Lois every five minutes.

"Lois sure looks happy," Jimmy commented, coming up behind Chloe and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Who's she talking to?"

"Who else?" Chloe asked, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice. "She's talking to Clark."

"She's probably chewing him out for having to run out in the middle of your birthday party," Jimmy said, supportively, and Chloe snorted in disbelief.

"Does it look like that's what she's doing?" Chloe snapped as, across the room, Lois burst into laughter, her whole face lighting up with joy. "I mean, she lives with Clark. How many times a day does she really need to talk to him?"

"Uh huh," Jimmy said, his voice strange. "You don't really sound like you want anyone's company right now, not even mine, so I'm going to go mingle and I'll be back when you're out of this funk, okay?"

He gave her a quick kiss and then disappeared, not that Chloe could blame him. She had an amazing husband, one who'd worked with Lois to throw her a fabulous birthday party, and here she was ignoring him so that she could sit in a corner and sulk about how her life hadn't turned out the way she wanted it to.

"Hey, birthday girl," a voice chimed up from behind her, and Chloe turned to see Oliver standing behind her, a big grin on his face and a gift-wrapped package in his hands.

"You look like you're a million miles away," Oliver said, and Chloe sighed, quietly.

"I was just thinking," she replied.

"About what?" Oliver prompted, when she trailed off.

"That used to be my life," Chloe told him, nodding at Lois. "I had this great job at the Daily Planet, Clark and I were really close, and my life was really going somewhere, you know? and then I gave it all up and I don't even remember why."

Oliver got the same sympathetic look on his face that both Lois and Clark got when she mentioned the gaps in her memory, that look that Chloe absolutely hated, and she plowed on quickly before he could say anything.

"Don't get me wrong, I like my life just fine," she said, hastily. "There's just some times when I wish I could live my old life for a day. Just to remember why I let go of it."

"Did I hear someone say wish?" a new voice spoke up, interrupting her, and Chloe had to stifle a grin at the sight of Zatanna as she walked up.

The woman looked nothing like Chloe had been expecting out of a magician. The way she was dressed, she looked like she'd just stepped out of a comic book.

"Well, how about it?" Zatanna asked, and Chloe quirked a curious eyebrow at her. "Make a wish and I'll grant it," Zatanna clarified.

"Oh, I wish I could," Chloe said, with a false cheer, "but I don't have any-"

A cupcake with a single candle popped up under her nose and Chloe scowled at the big grin on Lois's face.

"-candles," she finished, flatly.

"Make a wish," Zatanna urged, and Chloe was tempted to tell her to lighten up and not to take her job so seriously.

"Come on, Chlo," Lois said, encouragingly, slinging an arm around her cousin's shoulders. "Even with your perfect life, there's got to be something you want."

_'My perfect life?' _Chloe thought in disbelief. _'Look who's talking.'_

She looked at Lois and Oliver, who were both looking at her expectantly, and then at Zatanna who had an almost predatory look on her face, and she sighed.

_'Lois gets my dream job working with Clark at the Planet, her articles have national recognition, and Clark's wildly in love with her; if I want the perfect life, I ought to wish for hers.'_

Rolling her eyes at her own dramatics, Chloe let out the breath she'd been holding and blew the candle out. Lois hugged Chloe after the candle had gone out, and then pulled away with a reluctant smile on her face.

"Sorry to have to pull a disappearing act on you," she said, apologetically, "but I have to go to work early in the morning, and I've got a three-hour drive ahead of me to get home."

"You're bailing on me?" Chloe asked, faking a pout, and Lois laughed.

"Sorry," she apologized, again.

"Drive safe," Chloe wished her, as Lois gave her another, parting hug and headed for the door.

"This is for you," Oliver said, dragging her attention away from the door where Lois had disappeared.

He handed her the beautifully-wrapped package that he'd been carrying around all night, and Chloe eagerly pulled the wrapping paper off the small box. She pulled off the lid to uncover a thin, silver chain, and when she pulled the necklace out, she grinned at the tiny charm shaped like a robot.

"You said once that the only reason you watched all those science fiction movies with Clark was for the technology," Oliver said, and Chloe laughed.

"It's adorable, Oliver, thank you," she told him, giving him a quick hug.

Just then, Oliver's phone shrilled, and he snapped it open with a quick, "Hello?" Then, a grin broke over his face and he said, "Hey, Babs."

Chloe heard a woman's voice snap, "I thought I told you not to call me that," and then Oliver walked away, deep in conversation.

The party lasted for a few more hours, finally breaking up around midnight, with people wishing Chloe a happy birthday as they left. Chloe and Jimmy finally found themselves alone in the little corner of the Ace of Clubs that they'd roped off for the party, facing a huge mess.

"You know," Jimmy remarked as they started stuffing garbage and bits of wrapping paper into a garbage bag, "if people really wanted you to have a happy birthday, they'd have stayed to help us clean this place up."

"I don't mind this part," Chloe told him. "It's kind of peaceful with just the two of us here."

"And everyone else in the bar," Jimmy reminded her.

"I was pretending that we had the place to ourselves," Chloe said.

"So, are you feeling better?" Jimmy asked, after a moment, and Chloe blushed at the reminder of her earlier behavior.

"Guess green's not really my color, huh?" she asked, ruefully.

"It wasn't one of your finest moments," Jimmy said, tactfully.

They finished stuffing the rest of the garbage into the bags and then Jimmy hefted them into his arms as Chloe gathered up her scattered presents. They went out to her car, stopping at the dumpster behind the bar along the way, and then they sat in the car for a few minutes, Jimmy drumming his hands restlessly on the steering wheel.

"Okay," he said, finally. "We could go home-"

"That's a three-hour drive," Chloe pointed out, wincing at how whiny even she found her own voice.

"Or, we could get a hotel room and spend the night in Metropolis," Jimmy finished.

"I like that idea," Chloe told him.

"Hotel room it is," Jimmy declared with such gusto that Chloe burst out laughing.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

Lois woke up to the shrill screeching of her alarm clock and she smacked the snooze button with a groan. Her hand brushed something on the nightstand as she was pulling it away from her alarm clock, and she opened a bleary eye to see a cup of coffee sitting on the small table, still steaming. A folded piece of paper was propped against it. Lois grabbed the paper and unfolded it, reading the note written in Clark's untidy scrawl.

_'Hey, beautiful,'_ the note started, making Lois smile, _'your alarm's going to go off in fifteen minutes and I know you'll kill me if I wake you up. On the news, there was a report about an earthquake in China, so I'm going to fly over and do what I can to help. I'll see you later at work. I love you.'_

"Love you, too," Lois said out loud to the empty room, wondering if Clark could hear her halfway across the world, and then she froze at the sound of her own voice.

"Hello?" she tried, cautiously, flinching when her voice came out higher than she was expecting.

Getting out of bed, she went down the hallway to the bathroom and flicked on the light. Steeling herself, all the while hoping that she'd just caught a bad cold and was being foolish, she stepped in front of the mirror. Chloe's face was staring back at her wearing Lois's shocked expression.

"Next time," Lois told her reflection, "I'm not hiring a magician from Smallville."

Lois debated calling for Clark for a moment before remembering the earthquake in China.

_'I'm a big girl,'_ she thought. _'I can handle a little body swap without Smallville's help. After a shower.'_

Nearly an hour later, she was ready to go and heading out of the house. She'd fed a very confused Shelby before she left, and the poor dog kept sniffing at her hands and then looking around, trying to find her or Clark. Lois had left him with a big bone to chew on to make up for making it seem like they'd both abandoned him.

"Dog's going to need therapy," Lois decided, as she locked the door behind her. "Hell, after living in Smallville for long enough, I'm going to need therapy.

As she jogged down the steps, she pulled her cell phone out of her purse and dialed Chloe's number.

"Hey, you've reached Chloe. Leave a message after the beep."

"Chloe, it's Lois," she said, when her cousin's cell phone clicked over to voice mail. "When you get this, call me. Actually, meet me at ISIS. It's really important."

Heading out to her car, Lois got behind the wheel and then got another shock when she realized that, in Chloe's body, she couldn't reach the pedals comfortably.

"It's not bad enough that my clothes don't fit right, and my shoes are too big," she grumbled as she wrestled with the seat, trying to move it forward. "Now, I can't even drive my own car."

She finally got her seat moved forward enough that she could reach everything, and then groaned when she realized that she was having a hard time seeing over the dashboard as well as she used to.

"No wonder Chloe never drives my car," she snapped, twisting around to grab a pillow from the backseat and shove it underneath her, propping her up.

She started adjusting the mirrors, and finally got everything set to compensate for her new, shorter height. Turning the engine on, she started down the driveway. The three hour drive into Metropolis was nerve-wracking to say the least. She had to have every bit of her attention focused on driving, and she arrived at ISIS gripping the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip she hadn't had since she taught Lucy and Chloe to drive, one summer.

Lois pulled into the parking lot behind the building but didn't see any sign of Chloe's car. Before she got out of the car, she tried Chloe's phone one more time, but kept getting directed to her voicemail.

"Call me," she said, insistently, repeating her earlier message.

Locking the doors behind her, Lois tried the back entrance to ISIS, in case Chloe had given her car to Jimmy for the day, and was already there, but she found it locked.

"Great," she grumbled. "Just great. Come on, Lois, think. Where else would Chloe be at this time of the morning?"

Unfortunately, she couldn't come up with an answer other than 'at work'.

"Cuz, you need a hobby," she said, out loud.

"I'd be worried less about your cousin and more about yourself, if I was you," a voice said, nastily, from behind her.

Lois whirled around in time to see a flash of bright light go off in front of her face and then everything went dark.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

The morning after her birthday party, Chloe woke up to an empty bed and cold sheets beside her. The space next to her didn't even look like it had been slept in.

"Jimmy?" she called out, wondering if her husband was already in the shower. "Jimmy, honey, are you up?"

There was no answer, and her curiosity quickly got the best of her, dragging her out of her warm bed and over to the closed bathroom door. She opened the door, half expecting to hear the shower running, but was greeted with silence.

"Jimmy?" she called, stepping inside, and then she froze when she realized that Lois was staring back at her from the mirror.

"What in the world?" she breathed, reaching a tentative hand toward the mirror and then jumping in shock when her reflection did the same thing.

"Oh, this is so not good," she declared. "I'm Lois."

Tearing out of the bathroom, she grabbed her cell phone off the night table beside the bed and flipped through her phone book until she landed on Lois's number. She hit connect, but heard nothing but a beeping sound, and to her dismay, the low-battery light started flashing on the screen.

"And this morning just keeps getting worse and worse," she said. "All right. Lois said she had to go to work. I'll track her down there."

She got dressed in the outfit she'd worn to the party the previous night, grateful that she'd worn practical clothes. Gathering her purse from the foot of the bed, she went down to the lobby, dropping the room key off at the front desk, and headed out to her car. After a lot of wrestling with her seat, Chloe finally started down the street, arriving at the Daily Planet fifteen minutes later.

For a few minutes, she just sat in her car and stared up at the tall building. She hadn't set foot inside the place since the day Lex had fired her, and she wasn't sure if she could walk inside, now.

_'I don't even remember why he fired me,'_ she thought, morosely. _'That's probably the worst part of all.'_

Finally, gathering up her courage, Chloe got out of her car and headed for the front door of the Daily Planet. She went inside and headed for the elevator, almost pushing the button for the basement before she remembered that Lois had recently been promoted out of the basement to a low position on the bullpen totem pole.

_'Three years in the basement and I never even saw this part of the Planet, let alone got a promotion,' _Chloe thought, her internal voice snide as she punched the button for the top floor.

And thanks to her new promotion, Lois no longer had to suffer the indignities of fetching coffee, making copies, and the thousands of other thankless tasks the "real" reporters dreamed up for the interns to take care of. She got to focus on writing articles, something Chloe remembered never having time for, even if she didn't quite remember why.

And then there was Superman. While Chloe, along with the rest of the city, waited anxiously to see an actual picture of Superman's face on the front page of the Daily Planet instead of the usual shot of the back of his head, Lois had actually met and talked to the elusive superhero. She'd even gotten an exclusive interview with him, with a title that almost made Chloe's eyes pop out of her head.

'I Spent a Night With Superman', indeed.

Chloe had grilled Lois the day the article had come out, and even though Lois insisted that absolutely nothing had happened, Chloe didn't believe her. How could anyone be that close to Superman and just remain professional?

Arriving at the top floor, Chloe got off the elevator and went down the short steps to the bullpen. She weaved in and out of people on the way to Lois's desk, fielding greetings from them on her way. To her dismay, Lois wasn't sitting at her desk, which explained why people weren't staring at her in shock or confusion.

They thought she was Lois.

_'Isn't this exactly what I wished for, though?' _Chloe thought, staring at Lois's empty desk with mixed feelings. _'I wanted Lois's life, and now I have it. At least until she comes back and ruins everything.'_

Chloe winced at the tone of her last thought, but before she could begin to even think about what it could mean, that she could think of Lois like that, she heard someone coming up from behind her.

She turned to see Jimmy coming toward her, camera in hand, and she momentarily froze, but Jimmy didn't seem to notice her hesitation.

"The editor says we're supposed to go cover the ribbon cutting for the new library," he said, jerking his head back toward the elevators.

"A ribbon cutting?" Chloe echoed in dismay. Lois always looked like she got the glamorous assignments, not the boring puff pieces.

"We can stop and grab coffee on the way," Jimmy told her, incorrectly interpreting her disappointed tone. "Besides, one of the new guys from the mail room made it this morning, and it tastes like tar."

He pulled a face as he headed for the elevators, and then turned around in confusion when he noticed that she wasn't following him.

"Lois?" he prompted, quizzically. "You coming?"

_'This is what I wanted,' _Chloe reminded herself, when she hesitated. _'It's time I actually started taking what I want, for a change.'_

"Hold your horses, Olsen," she barked, trying to channel Lois. "The story isn't going to write itself without me."

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

Lois regained consciousness to the sound of people arguing over her head. Resisting the urge to open her eyes and demand an explanation from her captors, Lois instead kept her eyes closed and her chin drooped against her chest. Keeping her breathing quiet and even, Lois pretended to still be unconscious and listened to the voices arguing behind her.

"I don't know what good this is supposed to do," an outraged man was saying, angrily.

"We have our orders, and we have to follow them," a woman's voice snapped back. "Or, do you want to be the one to tell Mercer that we couldn't get Chloe to hack into one stupid computer?"

_'Mercer?'_ Lois thought, incredulously. _'Tess Mercer ordered Chloe to be kidnapped? What the hell?'_

"You keep calling her Chloe," a new voice spoke up. "Are you sure you can be objective about this, Plastique?"

"Hey," the first woman growled, as Lois puzzled over where she'd heard that voice before. "Just because I'm grateful to Chloe doesn't mean I'm not ready to do whatever I have to."

"Then you won't mind if I wake Sullivan up, right?" the second woman asked, and then Lois jerked in her chair as a bolt of electricity jolted through her body.

She arced up in the chair against the restraints anchoring her to the seat, and would have collapsed to the floor if she hadn't been secured in place. Lois tried to scream in pain, but could barely manage to force a wheeze out of a throat that had closed up in shock. The pain subsided after a few seconds that felt like forever and Lois slumped against the back of the seat, her breath coming in sharp, harsh pants.

"Wakey, wakey," the second woman said in a sing-song voice, and even as Lois was glaring at her, she was taking in her surroundings at ISIS, trying to figure out a way to escape.

"Good morning, Ms. Sullivan," the woman continued. "We're the Injustice League, and we have a little job for you."

"You can take your job offer and shove it," Lois snarled, and the woman took a step forward, her hand raised, menacingly.

"Back off, Livewire," the first young woman snapped, stepping between them, and Lois finally recognized the runaway Chloe had taken in for a short time. "This isn't how this is going to work."

"Your bleeding heart is only going to make this take longer," the man said, in a bored tone. "I say we let Livewire electrocute her until she agrees to do what we want."

"Let me handle this," the young woman said, firmly, and then she turned back to Lois.

"Sorry about the rude awakening, Chloe," she apologized, a fake smile pasted on her face.

"What do you want, Bette?" Lois asked, digging the girl's name out of her memory.

"It's Plastique, now," she was informed. "And we just need your help with a little project. Do what we want and we'll let you go."

"What makes you think I'm going to help you?" Lois snapped, stalling for time.

"This," Plastique told her, slapping a glossy photo down on the table in front of her.

Lois leaned over as far as her bonds would allow to see a picture of Jimmy and herself getting into Jimmy's car.

"Your cousin and your husband leaving work this morning," Plastique told her, as if Lois wasn't smart enough to figure it out on her own, and then the younger girl's words sank in.

_'She said this morning,'_ Lois thought, trying not to panic. _'This has got to be Chloe. There's no other explanation.'_

"If you don't help us," Plastique continued, helping prove the stereotype of the villain who spelled their plan out step by step, "Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen are going to meet a very unpleasant end. Understand me?"

"Yeah," Lois said, barely keeping her anger in check. "I understand you perfectly."

"Looks like I was wrong, Plastique," Livewire spoke up, admiringly. "You aren't going soft, after all."

"Why torture someone when threats and intimidation can get you everything you need?" Plastique asked, her voice pleasant. "Why'd you think I sent Neutron out so early this morning?"

"What do you want?" Lois demanded, repeating her earlier question.

"You're going to hack into a computer for us," Plastique told her, gesturing to a laptop sitting on the table in front of her. "This one."

"Whose computer did you steal?" Lois asked.

"That's none of your business," Parasite snapped.

"What's Tess Mercer want with someone's personal laptop?" Lois continued, and Livewire glared at her.

"Where'd you hear that name?" she demanded.

"You shouldn't have private conversations until you're sure the person you're holding hostage is really unconscious," Lois told them.

"Just get us what we want," Livewire snapped, spinning the chair Lois was in around to face the computers. "Well?" she demanded, a second later.

"You need to untie my hands," Lois explained, patiently.

While Plastique was busy freeing Lois's hands from the chair's armrests, Lois heard Parasite talking to Livewire.

"Neutron hasn't come back, yet. I'm going to go find him."

"Get to work," Plastique snapped, drawing Lois's attention back to her.

Lois turned her attention to the computers, tapping her fingers restlessly on the keys and wondering how she was going to stall long enough to get herself out of this mess.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

"Step on it," Chloe urged, leaning forward in her seat to try and keep the flashing lights of the police cars in sight.

"I'm already going over the speed limit," Jimmy told her, stepping on the gas, nonetheless.

Chloe settled back against the seat, relishing the rush she got from chasing after a potential story. That ribbon cutting had been so boring, and she couldn't imagine how she'd ever had the patience to write about things like that, before.

Jimmy pulled up across from the storefront that all the police cars were gathered around, throwing the car into park and jumping out of the car behind Chloe, who dashed across the street to stand at the edge of the police tape marking off the area. The police were standing underneath the balcony of a fire escape, trying to negotiate with a man yelling at the top of his lungs.

"What's he saying?" Jimmy wondered, as he started snapping pictures.

"He's talking about the keeper of the book," Chloe said, absently, as she listened to the man's ranting. "She who is called Zatanna."

"You can understand that guy?" Jimmy asked, looking over at her in shock.

"I, um, I took a Latin course in college," Chloe said, quickly, but Jimmy still looked skeptical.

"Zatanna," Chloe mused, trying to take Jimmy's mind off her sudden proficiency for dead languages, "where have I heard that name before?"

"That's the name of the magician you found for Chloe's party, remember?" Jimmy prompted, and then he looked over at her in dawning realization.

"You don't think it's the same one, do you?" he asked.

"I think we should check it out," Chloe told him, wondering if Zatanna was behind her little change, as well.

Then, their attention was drawn back to the building by a shout from one of the onlookers, and Chloe watched in horror as the screaming man jumped off the fire escape to the ground below. He never made it, though, as a familiar red and blue clad figure grabbed him in midair and set him gently on the ground.

"Next time," she heard Superman say to the man, "you might want to think about using the stairs."

"Thanks, Superman," one of the cops said, as they took the still-ranting man into custody.

"Hey, Superman!" his partner called out. "There's a fire over on Mission Street."

"On it," Superman said, flying away quickly.

"He is so cool," Jimmy said, admiringly, as they headed back to his car.

"Yeah," Chloe agreed, quietly, wondering if she could use her current appearance to get Superman to show her his face.

"So," she asked, once they were back in the car and driving down the street, "where do we find this Zatanna?"

"She's got a show tonight at the Ace of Clubs," Jimmy answered. After a moment, he asked, "Do you really think that she could make someone go crazy like that?"

"This is hardly the weirdest thing to happen to this town," Chloe pointed out, and Jimmy agreed with her.

They pulled into a parking spot behind the still-empty Ace of Clubs, and found the door unlocked. Walking inside, they found Zatanna standing at the bar, flirting with the bartender. At the sound of footsteps on the metal stairs, the pair turned to see the visitors, and the bartender frowned at them.

"We're not open yet," he told them, but Chloe shook her head.

"We just want to talk to Zatanna," Chloe told him, and the other woman smiled.

"I've been waiting for you to show up," she said, cheerfully.

"You have?" Jimmy asked, skeptically. "Well, in that case, we have a few questions we'd like you to answer."

"Why don't you talk to the bartender?" Chloe suggested, quickly, wanting to keep him as far away from Zatanna as possible. "I'll see what I can get out of Miss Fishnets, down there."

"Miss Fishnets?" Jimmy echoed, as they went down the rest of the stairs. "I thought only Chloe talked like that."

He went over to the bar and started talking to the bartender while Chloe followed Zatanna into a small room off the kitchen in the back.

"What can I help you with, Ms. Sullivan?" Zatanna asked, leaning against the wall as Chloe shut the door securely behind her.

"Then, you knew about this?" Chloe accused.

"Well, it wasn't hard to figure out," Zatanna told her. "I've only cast two spells lately, and you're not the man who wanted a better understanding of language, so you must be the birthday girl."

"You caused this to happen?" Chloe asked, trying to clarify the situation.

"Technically, I only supplied the magic," Zatanna told her. "Your wish is what shaped it. Although, I never thought you'd make a wish like this."

"I didn't think it could actually happen," Chloe admitted.

"Let me guess," Zatanna said, with a smirk. "You want me to change you back. Well, sorry, but-"

"No!" Chloe burst out, interrupting her, and Zatanna raised an eyebrow at her in surprise.

"No," she repeated. "You don't want me to change you back? Even though you're walking around making everyone think that you're really your cousin?"

Chloe fidgeted, staring uneasily at the floor, and Zatanna laughed.

"Oh, this is too good," she said. "I have to admit, you are a first. I've never met anyone who wished to take over someone's life, before."

"It used to be my life," Chloe told her, feeling sullen. "Then I walked away from it and I don't even remember why."

"Well, maybe this will give you the chance to remember why," Zatanna told her. "Just remember one thing."

"What's that?" Chloe asked, suspiciously.

"You're not the only one this wish is affecting," Zatanna said, mysteriously, and then as the door opened behind Chloe, she added in a louder voice, "The man who made the wish will go back to normal when he no longer wants it."

"Oh, good, you found something out," Jimmy said, poking his head through the door. "CK just called my cell; he said you're not answering your phone."

"My battery died," Chloe said, feeling guilty at the rush of relief she felt knowing that Lois wasn't about to spoil things by answering her phone.

"I told him about the guy on the roof, and he wants us to meet him back at the Planet," Jimmy continued.

"Well, let's get going, then," Chloe said, hurriedly.

"Remember what I said," Zatanna said, as she and Jimmy were leaving the club. "The spell only breaks when you want it to."

"You?" Jimmy said, as they got in his car. "Lois, what was she talking about?"

"Nothing," Chloe said, guiltily. "I'm sure she was just talking about that guy on the roof."

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

Lois had always considered herself comfortable with computers, but she knew she was nowhere near Chloe's level. But, Jimmy had shown her a few things about working with computers, and back when they'd still been dating, Oliver had conned her into helping him update his company's public website a few times, so she had a slight advantage.

Not much of one, since her trigger-happy captors were still breathing down her neck, but at least she was certain she could keep her charade going for a little while longer. At least long enough to warn Chloe and Jimmy that they were in trouble.

Booting up the computer, Lois huffed a sigh at the password screen that immediately popped up.

"You know," she called out, getting Livewire's attention. "I'm going to need to know whose computer this is."

"We told you that's none of your business," Livewire snapped.

"I need to know who the person is so I can figure out their login password," Lois explained, patiently. "Otherwise I could be stuck on this screen for the rest of the day."

Livewire and Plastique exchanged a look, and then Plastique grudgingly admitted, "Oliver Queen."

"You stole Oliver Queen's laptop?" Lois asked, incredulously, planning on ribbing Oliver about it as soon as she was free.

"Just get into the files," Livewire told her, stalking away to the other side of the room.

Lois settled her fingers back on the keyboard, thinking. She was pretty sure she knew Oliver well enough to anticipate what he'd pick as his passwords, and after a moment, typed her own name into the screen. It flashed an incorrect password message at her, so she tried Dinah's.

When that didn't work, she tried Black Canary, and then just Canary, grinning in triumph when the computer continued its start up procedure.

"What am I looking for?" Lois asked, when the computer had finished booting up.

"Blueprints," Plastique told her. "There are supposed to be blueprints and information for some secret hideaway Queen's got built somewhere in the city."

"And you think he'd keep something like that on his personal computer?" Lois asked, skeptically.

"Just-" Livewire started, and Lois rolled her eyes at the predictability.

"I know, I know," she said. "Get you what you want."

Determined to waste as much time as possible without getting electrocuted again, Lois started going through each and every file on Oliver's computer, starting with the e-mail. She didn't read anything, respecting Oliver too much to violate his privacy like that, but she spent enough time on each file to make it seem like she was being thorough.

She almost went back on her promise when she saw Barbara Gordon's e-mail address on quite a few of the files, but she held firm, figuring she'd just badger Oliver until he told her what she wanted to know.

"Haven't you found anything, yet?" Livewire wanted to know, storming over to Lois and glaring at the computer over her shoulder.

"I haven't even been at it for an hour," Lois told her, curtly. "Have some patience, will ya?"

"I'd check that attitude if I was you, Sullivan," Livewire said, nastily. "Or, do you want Lane and Olsen to suffer for your arrogance?"

"Checking the attitude," Lois muttered, shooting a glare of her own at Livewire. "Oh, and by the way? If you hurt them, I will kill you."

She settled back into digging through Oliver's computer, careful to avoid the more sensitive information when either of the women was looking her way. She'd just hit on what they wanted, blueprints and alarm codes to the clock tower headquarters of the Justice League when the door to ISIS slammed open. Lois quickly clicked over to another page and spun her chair around in time to see Parasite come sprinting through the door and into the room, a body cradled in his arms.

"What happened?" Livewire demanded as Parasite laid the body on the floor.

"Something got Neutron," Parasite said, tersely, and Lois inched her chair over until she could see the body on the floor, its chest ripped open to reveal a gaping cavity where the heart had once been.

Lois swallowed hard, taking a deep breath to try and quell the nausea rising in her throat. She shut her eyes, but the image of the boy's shredded body was burned into her memory.

"How did this happen?" Livewire demanded of Parasite.

"Doom-" Lois started, hoarsely, and then she had to take another deep breath and start again. "Doomsday," she said, quietly.

"What did you say?" Plastique demanded. "What's a Doomsday?"

"It's the monster that attacked my – my wedding," Lois said, covering quickly when she remembered that they thought she was Chloe. "That's-"

_'That's what Clark said I looked like after Doomsday attacked me,'_ Lois finished, silently. _'Oh, god, no wonder Clark lost it. I thought he and that kid from the future finished this monster off.'_

"I don't think this is what killed Neutron," Parasite told them, and the women looked at him in surprise.

"How could it not be what killed him?" Livewire demanded.

"Because he was dead when I found him," Parasite said. "Before this thing showed up to rip us both apart. I barely got out of there with what's left of Neutron's body."

"Then what did kill him?" Plastique demanded.

"I don't know," Parasite admitted. "That's what I brought him for."

He gestured back at the door, and for the first time, Lois noticed Dr. Hamilton standing by the door, staring down at Neutron's body with a mix of curiosity and fear on his face.

"He works for Queen," Parasite said, grabbing the man and dragging him forward. "I figured he could do an autopsy and tell us what really killed Neutron."

"I don't – this isn't the proper place to conduct an autopsy," Hamilton said, his voice shaking slightly. "And I don't have the proper training, anyway."

"Well, then you'll have to learn, won't you?" Livewire snapped. "Get to work."

Hamilton looked down at the knives their captors had provided him with and then over at Neutron's body, his face going pale.

"Dr. Hamilton," Lois hissed, scooting her chair forward. The man didn't seem to hear her. "Emil," she said, insistently, and he jerked in surprise.

"Do I know you?" Hamilton asked, looking up at her, nervously.

"Emil, I'm Lois Lane," she whispered, keeping an eye out for any of their captors approaching.

"I think I like the way your hair was before," Hamilton joked, weakly, and Lois sighed.

"I can't believe you believe me," she said.

"Ms. Lane, I've been kidnapped by a group of meteor mutants who want me to autopsy the body of a boy who was ripped apart by an alien monster," Hamilton said. "You're hardly the strangest part of my day."

"Glad I could oblige," Lois said. "Need some help with that autopsy?"

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

Chloe and Jimmy walked into the bullpen to find Clark sitting at his desk, hard at work. His face lit up when he spotted Chloe, and her heart leapt until she remembered that he thought he was looking at Lois.

_'Well, for today at least, I am Lois,'_ she reminded herself, firmly. _'And being with Clark is something I wanted for years.'_

"Hey, beautiful," Clark greeted, bending to kiss her, and Chloe quickly turned her head so that his lips landed on her cheek.

Chloe blushed as Clark shot her a quizzical look, thinking about her wedding ring that she'd tucked safely away in her wallet before coming into the Planet. She was beginning to realize what Zatanna meant about not being the only one affected by the spell.

"Something wrong?" Clark asked, concerned. "If this is about me having to leave this morning-"

"No, no, nothing like that!" Chloe protested, immediately, wondering what Clark was talking about. "No, I just don't feel very well. I'm coming down with a cold and I don't want you to catch it."

"Okay," Clark said, still giving her a strange look.

"So, did Jimmy tell you about the excitement from this morning?" Chloe asked, trying to divert his attention away from her behavior. "Superman even showed up. He couldn't stay, though. Something about a fire on Mission Street."

"Yeah, it was pretty bad," Clark said. "Two buildings were almost completely gutted by the time I got there."

"Were you covering the story?" Chloe asked, curiously.

"Covering the story?" Clark echoed, an odd look on his face. "Lois, are you sure you're-"

He trailed off, looking over her shoulder, and Chloe followed his gaze to see Jimmy standing behind her.

"Covering the story, right," Clark said, hastily. "That's exactly what I was doing."

"I'm going to go download the pictures of the jumper on my computer," Jimmy told them, heading toward his own desk, and Clark let out a sigh of relief.

"Nice catch," he told Chloe, gratefully. "I can't believe I didn't see Jimmy standing there."

_'What does Jimmy have to do with anything?'_ Chloe thought, confused, but she didn't want to voice her thoughts and make Clark any more suspicious than he already was.

"So, I was thinking that we could go talk to the guy in the hospital," Clark told her. "Maybe he can tell us something Zatanna didn't tell you two."

"Do you want to take your car?" Chloe asked, hoping he said yes. She didn't want to have to explain what 'Lois' was doing driving her cousin's little car instead of her Jeep.

"You want to drive to the hospital?" Clark asked, confusion on his face.

"Did you have another way of getting there?" Chloe asked.

Instead of answering, Clark looked around the bullpen like he expected someone to be listening in on their conversation. When he didn't see anyone around, he shot Chloe a strange look.

"Lois, are you sure you're feeling all right?" he asked in concern.

"I'm fine," Chloe insisted. "Let's go talk to that man."

Shaking his head in confusion, Clark led the way to the elevators, but rather than punching the button for the lobby, he hit the button for the roof. As the elevator started moving upwards, Chloe was dying to demand an explanation, but she didn't want Clark asking any more questions of his own.

They stepped out on the roof, the door clanging shut behind them. Before Chloe could say anything, Clark had scooped her up into his arms, and then to her utter amazement, she found herself flying through the air. Startled, she looked up at Clark, who looked peaceful as they flew.

_'Superman,'_ she realized in shock. _'Clark is Superman.'_

It was like the realization broke a dam inside of her. The memories that had teased at the edges of her mind for months suddenly came back full force. She remembered following Clark to the arctic and finding out that he was an alien, remembered lying to her friends and family to protect Clark's secret, remembered her decision not to go back to the Planet because it made it easier to work with Clark.

_'This is why I gave up my life at the Planet,'_ she thought. _'I did it so I could help Clark, but from the looks of it, he doesn't need my help. He doesn't really need me, now that's he's got Lois in his life.'_

They landed at the hospital, then, and Chloe followed Clark down the hall to the room where the man from the roof was. Clark knocked softly on the door jamb as they entered, and the man looked up at them.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"You're speaking English!" Chloe blurted out, receiving yet another surprise for the day. "You gave up your wish!"

"It wasn't a hard choice to make," the man admitted.

"But, how could you give up something you'd wanted so badly?" Chloe pressed. "Weren't you happy with what you'd been granted?"

"No one could understand me," the man told her. "I was escorted here by the police, ranting like a mad man. How could I want that?"

"Will the police be pressing charges?" Clark asked, as Chloe was thinking about the man's answer.

"Thankfully, no," the man replied, clearly relieved. "Apparently, there are enough people screaming from the rooftops around here that it's no longer considered a violation of disturbing the peace."

"You're probably the only one who was screaming in Latin," Clark quipped. "So, why did Zatanna offer to grant you a wish in the first place?"

"She offered me the wish in trade for a book that I'd had in my store," the man told them. "Unfortunately for her, all I could tell her was that I had sold the book to a private collector. She considered it a fair trade, though."

"What kind of book?" Chloe asked, inserting herself into the conversation.

"She wanted the book for a spell that it contains," the man answered. "It raises the dead."

"And who does she want to resurrect?" Clark asked, cautiously.

"Her father," the man said.

As they were leaving the hospital, Clark sighed heavily, and Chloe looked at him.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"I was just thinking that I don't blame Zatanna," Clark told her. "If I had a chance to bring my dad back from the dead, I think I'd take it."

"You wouldn't if it meant hurting other people in the process," Chloe said, firmly. "And Zatanna's wishes are hurting people."

"Wishes?" Clark repeated, catching onto her word. "The guy only made one wish."

"But, I'll bet there were others," Chloe said quickly, covering. "Other people she conned into helping her find that book."

"Probably," Clark admitted. "Where now?"

"Do you mind dropping me off by ISIS?" Chloe asked, thinking of using her computers to find out more about that book. "I want to talk to Chloe about something. Girl stuff," she added, just in case Clark was thinking of tagging along.

"Sure," Clark said, and they took off into the air, again.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

"There's nothing obvious in Neutron's chest or torso," Hamilton said, quietly. "Not without dissecting further into his body. Help me roll the boy over, please."

Lois grimaced but helped Hamilton roll Neutron's body onto its stomach, her own stomach rolling at the sight of the blood pooled on the floor.

"I knew there was a reason I never dissected those frogs in high school biology," she said, trying not to breathe deeply and smell the blood.

"To be honest," Hamilton admitted, as he and Lois gave the boy's back the same careful scrutiny as his front, "I was never fond of dissecting frogs, either."

"I think you picked the wrong career," Lois told him.

"Sometimes I wonder," Hamilton said. "Did you find anything?"

"There's a weird bump on the back of his neck," Lois said. "Right here."

Hamilton took a pen out of his pocket and drew a circle on the back of Neutron's neck, around the edges of the bump.

"This is going to get messy," he warned Lois.

"Like the rest of this hasn't been?" she asked, wryly.

Taking the smallest of the knives, Hamilton slowly sliced into the back of Neutron's neck, running the blade carefully from one end of the circle to the other.

"Hold this back," he told Lois, who held back the flap of skin with a grimace.

"They could have given us gloves," she grumbled, softly, so as not to attract unwanted attention.

"I can feel things better without any gloves on," Hamilton said, absently. "This little, metal protrusion, for instance."

Carefully, he worked the knife under and around the piece of metal and then cut it out of Neutron's neck where it was resting on his spinal column. He dropped the scorched piece of metal into Lois's outstretched hand, and she closed her fingers around it tightly.

"I wish I had some thread," Hamilton said, staring down at Neutron's body. "It seems disrespectful to just leave him like this. What will his family think when they see him in this condition?"

"I don't think the Psycho Gang plans on sending him back to his family, Doc," Lois remarked. Raising her voice, she called out, "Hey! Hamilton found what killed your friend."

Parasite, Livewire, and Plastique came over to where Hamilton was busy covering Neutron with the sheet he'd been laying on during the autopsy. Wordlessly, Lois held out the piece of metal, letting it fall into Livewire's outstretched hand.

"What is it?" the woman demanded, impatiently.

"I believe it's a micro explosive device," Hamilton said, getting everyone's attention. "The part of the boy's spinal column where the device was affixed has been damaged."

"Could it have killed him?" Parasite asked, and Hamilton nodded an affirmative.

"The damage afflicted by the explosive device would most certainly have ended his life," Hamilton told him.

"How'd he get a bomb planted in his brain?" Plastique demanded.

"Mercer," Lois answered, before Hamilton could speak, and the trio looked at her. "Mercer's the one who put your little gang together, and she's the one pulling your strings. It makes sense that she'd want some sort of insurance over you."

Before any of them could say anything in response, they heard the soft scratching of a key in the door. Lois had a second to see herself entering the front waiting area of ISIS, and then she lunged forward and helped Hamilton shove Neutron's body out of sight. Then, Plastique grabbed her arm and pulled her upright.

"Get rid of her," she hissed, shoving Lois forward toward the waiting area.

Chloe was pacing the length of the waiting area, wringing her hands anxiously. Her head snapped up as Lois stepped into the room, and she opened and closed her mouth several times like she was trying to say something but couldn't force the words out.

"Hey, Lois," Lois said, lightly, squashing the guilt she felt at the anguished look on her cousin's face.

As much as she wanted to talk to Chloe and find out what was bothering her, she knew the best way to protect her was to get her out of ISIS as quickly as possible.

"Um," Chloe stammered, and Lois didn't give her a chance to spill the magic beans.

"Isn't Clark with you?" she asked, peering over Chloe's shoulder, praying to see her boyfriend standing outside. "I thought you two were joined at the hip these days."

"I told Clark I had some girl stuff to talk about, so he took off," Chloe said, and Lois's heart sank in dismay.

"Well, is it going to take long?" Lois asked, trying to hurry Chloe along. "I was kind of in the middle of a counseling session. You remember Bette, right?"

She gestured to the girl standing behind her, and Chloe's eyes went wide as Plastique stepped up beside Lois.

"I don't think we were properly introduced, last time," Chloe said, faintly, shaking the hand that Plastique held out to her. "Didn't Chloe tell me that you were in jail?"

"I got out for good behavior," Plastique said, a faintly menacing tone in her voice.

"I – I really need to talk to you, Chloe," Chloe said, her voice cracking slightly.

"This isn't a good time," Lois said, firmly, putting her hand on Chloe's back and pushing her toward the door.

"But-" Chloe protested, weakly.

"I need you to leave," Lois said, looking Chloe squarely in the eyes. "I'm busy here. Go back to work."

"Okay," Chloe agreed, quietly, and whether she got the message or was just hurt by Lois's seemingly dismissive attitude, Lois couldn't tell.

She also didn't particularly care, so long as Chloe was safely out of there. She breathed a sigh of relief after Chloe left, grateful that she hadn't noticed the body hidden on the floor under the sheet. As curious as Chloe could be, that one would have been impossible to explain. It would have also placed her in even more danger, and Lois wasn't about to let that happen.

"If your nosy cousin goes to the police," Plastique said, her tone definitely threatening, now, "then you and Hamilton are going to pay. Got it?"

So much for not putting anyone else in danger.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

Chloe was silent for the entire trip back to the Planet, and eventually Clark noticed. He didn't say anything, but he steered Chloe away from the Planet and down the street.

"Where are we going?" Chloe asked, confused.

"Lunch," Clark told her. "I found this great little Greek place that I think you'd love."

Chloe followed Clark down the street, curious as to where he could be taking her. Then, as they stepped through the doorway of the tiny café, she stopped in her tracks.

"You coming?" Clark asked, noticing her hesitation.

"Clark, this is really romantic," she said, softly, taking in the quiet, candlelit atmosphere of the café.

The table Clark had stopped beside had a vase filled with cherry blossoms sitting in the center, and since all the other tables were unadorned, Chloe had a feeling that it was deliberate. She remembered seeing Clark get off his phone when she'd left ISIS, and now she had a feeling she knew what he'd been planning. She felt like scum when she realized that Clark had to have been planning this surprise for a while for Lois, and she couldn't take that away from her cousin.

"I can't," Chloe said, quietly, as Clark looked at her in confusion. "I can't do this to Lois."

"Lois, what are you talking about?" he asked, coming over to where she was still standing in the doorway.

"I'm not Lois," Chloe told him. "Clark, I'm Chloe."

"What?" Clark repeated, puzzled.

"That magician at my birthday party last night?" Chloe reminded him, quickly. "She cursed me, and when I woke up this morning, I looked like Lois."

"You're Chloe," Clark said, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Chloe nodded, timidly, and Clark pursed his lips in a thin line.

"What's her name?" he asked. When Chloe looked at him in confusion, he elaborated. "The magician that cursed you. What's her name?"

"Zatanna," Chloe admitted, quietly.

"The same one that put the spell on the guy I rescued?" Clark asked, and Chloe nodded, again.

"She's at the Ace of Clubs," she told him, anticipating his next question.

"Come on," Clark said, sweeping past her and heading out of the café. "We're going to find Zatanna and get her to change you back."

Five minutes later they were landing in the parking lot of the Ace of Clubs, and when they went inside the club, Zatanna's eyes lit up when she saw Chloe.

"You're back," she said. "Changed your mind?"

"You need to take this curse off Chloe," Clark broke in, his voice brusque.

"A curse?" Zatanna repeated. "You think what I did is a curse? Why don't you ask your friend what my spell really is?"

Chloe winced as Clark turned to her, his face completely expressionless.

"What did you do?" Clark demanded, his tone hard.

"I made a wish," Chloe told him, fighting the urge to cry. She'd never seen Clark so angry at her before. "Zatanna offered me a wish-"

"And so you stole Lois's life?" Clark finished, incredulously. "What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," Chloe admitted, softly. "I didn't think it could really happen."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Clark asked, furiously. "Why would you let everyone, let me, think that you were Lois?"

"Because I thought this was the life I wanted," Chloe told him, no longer stopping the tears that flowed down her cheeks.

"What about Jimmy?" Clark asked, unmoved by her tears. "Didn't you want a life with him, anymore?"

He paced the length of the room, anxiously, like he couldn't stand to be near her for very long. Then, he whirled suddenly and rushed back to her, grabbing her arms.

"Chloe, where's Lois?" he demanded, fear clear in his voice. "If you look like Lois, then what happened to her?"

"She's at ISIS," Chloe told him. "Clark, she's fine. She was talking to Bette when I saw her."

"Bette?" Clark echoed. "The same Bette who blew up a bus, killed her friend, and tried to kill you? And you just left her there?"

"Lois said she was fine," Chloe protested, stubbornly.

"She was lying because she didn't want you to get hurt!" Clark exploded. "I have to go find her."

"I'm sure she's fine," Chloe repeated, insistently.

"She better be," Clark snapped, and then he disappeared in a flash.

"I'm sorry," Chloe whispered after him, tears streaking down her face.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

"Did you find those blueprints, yet?" Livewire asked, standing over Lois's shoulder as she munched on a sandwich.

"Not yet," Lois said, irritated, brushing crumbs off the keyboard. "And, thanks for offering to feed your captives."

"You'll get food when you find those blueprints," came the answer.

"Then we're never going to get fed," Hamilton muttered from where he'd been tied to another chair.

He pasted a guileless look on his face when Livewire looked over at him, and Lois found herself liking the man even more.

"You'll get food when you take these bombs out of our heads," Livewire snapped at him.

"While I don't agree with how your lives are being threatened," Hamilton told her, "you and your friends are in no immediate danger, and I will not further endanger your lives by operating on your spinal columns without anesthesia, a sterile area, or the proper equipment."

"Then you're never going to get fed," Livewire said, nastily, mocking him.

"Can't you just blast the things out of our head?" Parasite asked, from where he was lounging on the couch in Chloe's office.

"If I want to blast your brains in the process, sure," Livewire replied. "Do you want to spend the rest of your days as a drooling husk?"

"Just don't use a lot of power," Plastique spoke up, coming into the room. "And try it on me, first. I can take whatever you dish out."

"Don't blame me if I fry your synapses," Livewire grumbled, but she obligingly put the tips of her fingers on the back of Plastique's neck when the other girl swept her long hair aside.

Lois spun her chair around to watch, and Parasite glared at her.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"You've been holding me prisoner here and forcing me to break into a friend's laptop," Lois told him, icily. "You threatened to kill my friends and family. You threatened to kill me. Do you think I'm not going to take the chance to watch Psycho Spice over there get electrocuted?"

"Shut up," Livewire snapped, cutting off whatever reply Parasite was about to make. "I need to focus."

Livewire took a deep breath and pressed her fingers into the back of Plastique's neck. Then, a spark jumped out of her fingers and Plastique jerked from the shock. But she was still standing when Livewire pulled her hand away.

"I feel okay," she said, cautiously.

"All right, my turn," Parasite said, jumping up.

Livewire shocked him, too, and then she did the same to herself.

"Do you think it worked?" she asked.

"The only way to know for sure would be if Ms. Mercer were to press the detonator," Hamilton spoke up, revealing a sadistic streak.

Livewire stepped toward him, towering menacingly, but then the front door blew in off its hinges and a gust of wind blasted her across the room. A second later, Plastique and Parasite were being dumped in the same corner that Livewire had landed in.

Clark appeared in front of Lois's chair, dressed in his Superman costume, and Lois sagged against the chair in relief.

"It's about time, Smallville," she joked, weakly.

"I didn't think I was going to get here in time," Clark confessed, snapping the bonds that secured her to the chair.

He freed Hamilton as well, checking the man over quickly to make sure that he wasn't hurt, and then he turned back to Lois, sweeping her off her feet and into a hard hug.

"I knew something was wrong," he mumbled into her hair. "I should have known that wasn't your heartbeat."

"I knew you'd come for me," Lois replied. "Didn't know when, but I knew you'd come."

"Folks, I hate to break up such a touching reunion," Hamilton interrupted, gently, "but did anyone see where our captors escaped to?"

Lois looked around and saw that the trio had fled, leaving them alone in ISIS.

"They ran away rather than face Clark," she said. "Smartest move they made all day."

"That does, however, mean that they're out there, running free," Hamilton pointed out.

"I'll get them, Emil," Clark told the other man. "Don't worry."

Hamilton nodded, and then gestured toward Neutron's body.

"Could I get your help with the boy, Clark?" he asked. "I want to be able to deliver his body back to his family."

Clark helped Hamilton wrap Neutron more securely in the blood soaked sheet and then carried him out the back entrance to where Lois's car was parked. They got the body situated on the tarp Lois kept in her car for when she needed to take Shelby someplace, and then Lois handed Hamilton her keys.

"I'll come pick my car up later," she told him.

Lois leaned against Clark as they watched Hamilton drive off, and Clark wrapped his arms around her waist, holding on tightly.

"For a few seconds today, I didn't know where you were," he said, quietly. "I didn't know if you were all right, or even if you were alive. I've never been so scared in my life."

"I don't think today was a picnic for either of us," Lois said. "When I get my hands on that magician – what did she think she was doing, body-swapping me and Chloe, anyway?"

"It wasn't just you two," Clark told her. "She cast a spell on a guy who tried to help her find a book – she was looking for a book of magic. Lois, who do we know who collects rare books?"

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Lois groaned, as realization struck. "Mercer's after the book, too. That's why she had me going through his computer for blueprints to the Watchtower."

"We have to find Oliver before Zatanna gets her hands on that book," Clark said.

"Grab Ollie's laptop, first," Lois told him. "It's got too much stuff on it to just leave it lying around."

Clark zipped back into the building and came out a second later with the laptop tucked safely under his arm. Then he scooped Lois up into his arms and took off into the sky, in the direction of the Watchtower. They landed on the roof a few minutes later, and Clark froze at the sight before him.

Oliver was chained to a pole in the middle of the roof, struggling against the metal chains that held him in place. Chloe was a few feet from the doorway, caught frozen in a wave of golden energy. And Zatanna was in the middle, her arms outstretched and reaching for the sky, a wild look in her eyes. Above them all, a storm was raging.

"Chloe!" Lois screamed, seeing the danger her cousin was in.

It barely registered in her mind that Chloe looked like herself, again. The only thing that mattered was that Chloe was in trouble.

"Zatanna, let them go!" Clark thundered, starting towards the woman.

"They shouldn't have interfered!" Zatanna cried, and as he got closer, Clark could see tears in her eyes. "It was supposed to be me in that spell."

"It's a sacrifice," Clark realized. "You were going to sacrifice yourself to bring your father back to life."

"It's my choice," Zatanna told him.

"You're not the only one affected by this choice," Clark insisted. "Zatanna, you can't do this."

He moved slowly toward the woman, but froze when she held up a hand crackling with energy. He kept a wary eye on both her and her captives.

"I'm going to bring my father back," she said, stubbornly, tears streaking down her face. "He shouldn't have died; it should have been me."

"Do you think your father would want that?" Clark asked, taking a chance and edging closer and closer to Zatanna. "Do you think he'd want to come back and find that you've given up your life to save his?"

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Zatanna cried, practically screaming to be heard above the howling winds. "How could you understand anything of what I'm going through?"

"Because I've been where you are," Clark told her, and Zatanna's eyes widened in surprise. "I made a mistake; I thought I could play God. And my father paid the price. He died because I thought I could control life and death."

"It's not the same thing," Zatanna protested, and the anguish in her voice made Lois's heart break for her.

"Don't make the same mistake I did," Clark entreated her. "Your father had a good life. Honor that, honor him. Live your life as the kind of person he would have wanted you to be."

Zatanna nodded, and then in a voice choked by tears, she called out, "Latrop eht esolc!"

There was a blinding flash and a crack of thunder and then the golden wave holding Chloe suspended disappeared, letting her fall weakly to the rooftop. Lois rushed to her cousin's side, checking for a pulse, and when she gave Clark a thumbs-up, he breathed a sigh of relief.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

Clark went over to Oliver and was about to break the chains holding him to the pole when Zatanna called out, "Wait!" Holding out a slightly-shaking hand, she murmured, "Leets yb dnuobnu."

The chains loosened and fell to the roof, and Clark caught Oliver as he lurched forward, holding him upright until he'd gotten his feet underneath him.

"What is it with you and women who tie you up?" Clark asked, and Oliver shot him an exasperated look.

"It's not like I plan for this to happen," he protested.

The sound of clinking chains drew their attention over to Zatanna, who was gathering up the length of steel, staring resolutely down so as not to meet anyone's gaze. Clark tipped his head in Zatanna's direction and Oliver nodded, indicating that he'd take care of it. That problem resolved, Clark went over to where Lois and Chloe were sitting, quietly talking.

"What were you thinking?" Lois was demanding as Clark came over.

"I – I made this mess, and I thought if I could fix it-" Chloe began, but then she trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

"Damn it, Chloe, you could have gotten yourself killed!" Lois snapped, and Clark heard the raw pain in her voice at even the idea of Chloe being gone.

"I'm sorry," Chloe whispered, clearly ashamed.

"I just-" Lois continued, "I don't – what were you thinking?" she finally demanded, again, unable or unwilling to put what she really felt into words.

"I wasn't," Chloe admitted, softly. "I wasn't thinking about anyone but myself."

Lois jumped to her feet at Chloe's words and stalked over to where Oliver and Zatanna were talking, tension radiating from every line of her body. When Clark sat down next to Chloe, he saw the same misery written on her face as well.

"Lois is still mad at me, isn't she?" Chloe asked, quietly, when Clark remained silent.

"Yes," Clark told her, honestly. "So am I," he added, after a moment.

Chloe nodded, accepting that fact.

"I don't blame you guys," she said. "What I did was pretty stupid."

"What you did was dangerous," Clark corrected, still too angry to let her off the hook even the tiniest bit. "Chloe, two people could have been seriously hurt, today. Lois could have died because of your actions. If any of those people had found out who she really was-"

"I know," Chloe said, and there were tears shining in her eyes. "Clark, I'm sorry. I know I hurt you and Lois-"

"Hurt doesn't begin to describe what I'm feeling right now," Clark told her. "Chloe you made a choice to lie to the people who love you. You betrayed the trust we had in you."

"I screwed up," Chloe said, softly. "How do I fix it?" she asked, plaintively.

"Well, for starters," Clark told her, "you need to talk to the person who was hurt the most by all of this."

When Chloe looked over at Lois, Clark shook his head.

"Jimmy," he said, and Chloe started in surprise.

"But, he doesn't even know," she protested.

"Don't you think he should?" Clark asked, bluntly. "Don't you think he should know that you were willing to throw away your wedding vows to have someone else's life?"

"I didn't-" Chloe protested in a last attempt to defend herself, but Clark cut her off.

"You weren't wearing your wedding ring all day," he pointed out. "I think you should take some time to think about why before putting it back on."

"What do I say to him?" Chloe asked, looking about as low as Clark had ever seen her.

"There's no script for this," Clark told her. "But, if it was me, I'd start with sorry."

Chloe nodded and then got slowly to her feet, staring out at the evening sky.

"I should get going," she said, not looking at Clark. "I have a long drive before I get home."

She didn't ask Clark for a lift and Clark didn't offer her one. After a moment, Chloe trudged toward the door to the stairs, her shoulders hunched in defeat. Clark had a feeling she was crying. When he walked back over to Lois, Oliver, and Zatanna, Oliver was on his cell phone, watching Chloe leave.

"George, Ms Sullivan is coming downstairs," he told the security guard. "Escort her to her car and make sure she gets off safely."

Clark looked over at Lois, who was staring after Chloe with an indecipherable look on her face.

"You okay?" he asked, quietly, and Lois shook her head.

"The last time I was this angry at someone was when I caught Lucy skipping school to smoke pot with some college kids," Lois told him.

"I can imagine how that turned out," Clark replied.

"There was a lot of yelling," Lois said. "Me yelling at Lucy, the General yelling at Lucy, the General yelling at me. Then, no one spoke to each other for three days and then the General got deployed and Lucy got shipped off to boarding school."

Giving Clark a lopsided smile, she added, "Did I mention that my family's kind of dysfunctional?"

"Too late, you're not getting rid of me that easy," Clark told her. "You're stuck with me, now, and I'm not going to let your crazy family scare me off."

"Would you believe that I have to put up with this mushy stuff all the time?" Oliver broke in with a stage whisper. Lois rolled her eyes at him.

"Don't you have to go buy out Luthorcorp, or something?" she asked.

"I do have to get going," Oliver admitted. Turning to Zatanna, he added, "You'll think about my offer? I could use someone with your talents in my organization."

"I'll think about it," Zatanna told him.

Pulling a business card literally out of thin air, she scrawled something on it and passed it to Oliver.

"In case you ever want to reach me," she said.

"What's this, some kind of spell?" Oliver asked, scrutinizing the card. "Do I say this out loud and you just appear or something?"

"It's my phone number," Zatanna told him, a smile quirking at her lips.

"Is everyone okay to get off the roof?" Oliver asked, as he headed for the door. "Do I need to leave the door unlocked?"

"I think we're okay," Clark told him.

"Speaking of locking your doors," Lois told him, "you should really think about updating your security system."

She handed Oliver his laptop, clearing up the confused expression on his face.

"This went missing during our last security sweep two weeks ago," he said. "Who had it?"

"A group working for Tess Mercer," Lois told him, waiting to gauge his reaction.

Oliver was silent for a long moment and then he sighed, heavily.

"Guess it's time I had another conversation with Tess," he said, and then he left.

"He is a very interesting man," Zatanna said, watching Oliver leave.

"He's something all right," Lois agreed. "Hey," she said, and Zatanna looked over at her. "Something I've been meaning to ask you. Why'd I turn into Chloe? I didn't make any wishes."

"It was a side effect from Chloe's wish," Zatanna told her. "It wouldn't have been a very good spell if there were two of you running around."

"At least it wore off," Clark remarked.

"I am sorry that you were hurt by it," Zatanna told Lois. "My magic is supposed to help, not harm, and had I known, I would have taken steps to end the situation, myself."

Lois was silent for a long minute, thinking, and then she shook her head.

"Looking like Chloe kept her from being the one who got hurt," she said, quietly. "The spell was worth that much."

"I do wish there was some way I could make this up to you, though," Zatanna said.

"Can you keep people from finding out that Clark is Superman?" Lois asked, wryly.

"Yeah, actually, I can," Zatanna said. "Disguise spells are easy."

She held a hand out, and a spark of energy leapt from her fingers to Clark's temple. He jumped slightly at the electric shock, and then Zatanna lowered her arm.

"All done," she told them.

"That's it?" Lois asked, in surprise. "Clark doesn't look any different."

"The spell won't have any effect on you, or anyone who already knows Clark's alter ego," Zatanna said. "But for those who don't know, they will be unable to see Clark as Superman, and vice versa."

"I should probably still wear the glasses, though," Clark said. "Just to be on the safe side."

"Thank you," Lois said, and Zatanna nodded.

"It was the least I could do after today," she said. "See you both later."

She disappeared in a flash of light, and Lois shook her head as she turned back to Clark.

"This day is too weird," she declared.

Clark nodded in agreement. "How's dinner sound to you?" he suggested.

While Lois was still looking at him in surprise, he scooped her up into his arms and took off into the darkening sky. He landed a few minutes later at the café he'd made reservations at earlier, and he spun back into his work clothes, Lois watching him with an amused smile on her face.

"I'm still waiting for an explanation," she told him.

"You'll see," Clark said, taking her hand and leading her into the café. "Close your eyes," he added, right before they went through the door.

Lois obligingly put her free hand over her eyes.

"You're not going to lead me into any doors, are you?" she asked, teasingly.

"Never," Clark told her.

He led Lois over to the table in the corner that was, thankfully, still set up. The maitre-de placed a couple of menus on the table and asked, quietly, "I see that you have made up with your lady friend, then?"

"Something like that," Clark told the man.

"Just because my eyes are closed doesn't mean I can't hear you talking about me," Lois said, pointedly.

"Keep them closed for a few more seconds," Clark said, guiding her to sit down.

Sitting down in his own chair, he pulled a small box out of his jacket pocket and placed in front of Lois.

"Okay," he said, and she opened her eyes.

She gasped in delight at the sight of the cherry blossoms, and then her eyes fell on the jewelry box. Eyes widening in shock, she stared at Clark, but he shook his head.

"I don't think we're quite at that stage in our relationship, yet," he reassured her, and she let out the breath she'd been holding.

"Gave me a bit of a shock there, Smallville," she told him as she opened the jewelry box, and then she gasped in surprise.

"This is beautiful," she murmured, lifting the delicate bracelet out of the velvet-lined box.

Made of several thin, braided strands of silver, the bracelet was adorned with a single, small diamond set in the center.

"This is from my mom's wedding ring," Lois said, recognizing the stone. "My dad gave you her ring?"

"He told me he'd always planned on giving it to you someday," Clark told her, and Lois's eyes started misting over.

"He never said a word," she said, quietly.

Wiping at her eyes, she turned the bracelet over and saw a symbol etched on the back of the setting.

"It means soul mates," Clark offered, before she could ask.

"And what brought on this romantic streak, might I ask?" Lois asked, blinking back fresh tears.

"Do I need a reason?" Clark asked, smiling.

"Help me get this on?" Lois asked, holding out her wrist.

Clark fastened the clasp of the bracelet and Lois drew her arm back, still looking at it.

"This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me," she told him, at last. "You're amazing, you know that?"

"I'm in love," Clark said, as if that explained it all.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

Tess had just settled into her bed at her high-rise Metropolis apartment with a book and a glass of Chardonnay when her bedroom door blew open, showering the room with a hail of sharp, wooden shards. She shielded her face with her arms, wincing as the shards dug into her exposed skin, drawing blood. When the debris settled down, she cautiously lowered her arms, blinking in the harsh light that filled the room as her attackers entered.

Fear had her heart hammering wildly in her chest, but it subsided when she saw Parasite, Plastique, and Livewire entering her bedroom.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, furiously. "This is my home."

"We just thought you'd like to know what we got out of Sullivan," Livewire told her, her tone pleasant.

"And you had to break down my door to do it?" Tess snapped. "Did you find where the book is?"

"No," Plastique told her, a strange smile on her face. "No, she didn't tell us anything about the book."

"Then why are you here?" Tess asked, rising to confront the trio. "Why aren't you out there looking for my book?"

"We had something more important to talk to you about," Parasite said.

"And what could be more important than the job I hired you for?" Tess demanded.

"This," Livewire said, holding out her hand.

Tess extended her own in response and Livewire tipped a small piece of charred metal into her palm. Tess went slightly pale at the sight of one of the micro explosives she'd had planted in the team's spinal columns.

"We got this out of Neutron," Parasite told her. "After you blew his brains out."

"Neutron got out of hand," Tess said, proud of how she kept her voice even and level. "He threatened me and I took defensive action."

"You murdered him," Plastique accused.

"I did what I had to do," Tess told her, edging backward and slowly opening the drawer of her bedside table, feeling for the small cylinder she knew was there. Closing her fingers over the slim detonator, she put her thumb over the button and pressed down. Then, she blinked in shock when nothing happened.

"Did your little toy break?" Livewire asked, nastily.

"What did you do?" Tess demanded.

"We disabled your bombs," Parasite told her. "You can't control us anymore, Mercer."

The trio had been advancing on her the entire time they'd been talking, and Tess found herself pinned against the wall with no way to escape. Livewire raised a hand toward her, a crackling ball of energy held in her hand, and Tess willed herself not to flinch. She was not going to let herself be intimidated by a bunch of out-of-control meteor freaks.

"Mercer," Livewire said, moving the energy closer to her face and Tess betrayed herself by cringing backward. "We quit."

There was a flare of bright light as the energy in Livewire's hand increased, and Tess squeezed her eyes shut, waiting fearfully for the pain to come. Then the light that had been bright enough to pierce her closed eyelids faded, and when she opened her eyes, she was alone in the room. Her legs shaking, she slid slowly down the wall, staring unblinking at the wall.

**XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

"What do we do now?" Plastique asked, as they were walking down the street away from Mercer's apartment building.

"We track down the rest of the gang from Black Creek," Livewire told her. "And then we go into business for ourselves."

"What about Superman?" Parasite asked. "He came after us today when we kidnapped Sullivan. He's going to do it again."

"Leave Superman to me," a new voice spoke up, and the trio turned to see a lithe, Asian woman in a black bodysuit stepping out of the shadows.

"This is a private conversation," Livewire told the woman, coldly.

"I couldn't help overhearing you just now," the woman told her. "And in that apartment with Tess Mercer."

"You've got good hearing," Plastique said. "You some kind of meteor freak?"

"Something like that," the woman said.

"I know you," Parasite said, suddenly. "You're Lana Luthor. You married Lex Luthor."

"Your husband put us in Black Creek," Livewire said, catching on.

"Ex-husband," Lana told them. "Lex and I have been enemies for a while now."

"So, what do you want?" Plastique asked, brusquely.

"The same thing you want," Lana said. "Revenge on Lex for everything he did to me."

"You said that you could handle Superman?" Livewire prompted.

"Let's just say that I'm the one person he can't touch," Lana said, with a mysterious smile. "After I'm through with him, Superman will never be a problem to any of us ever again."

"Welcome to the club," Livewire told her, holding out a hand that the other woman shook.

"What do we call you?" Parasite asked, and the other woman turned to face him, streaks of iridescent green shimmering on the surface of her black suit.

"Call me Kryptonite."


End file.
